Queen of Clubs
by Post-Apocalypse Dreamer
Summary: Hannah was raised as a village girl, and her whole life she was a village girl. When her father takes her and her brother to the capital of their kingdom, the Club Kingdom, to witness the new king's coronation, what will happen when she meets him herself?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own not Hetalia, nor the Cardverse. The girl Hannah, her brother, and father belong to me though, so back off.**

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Hannah came from a poor farming family in a small village on the skirts of the prestigious Kingdom of Clubs. She had an elder half-brother, two years older than her at twenty-one, and an older half-sister already married to a richer farmer from a distant village. Her mother had died of an illness that had swept the countryside twelve years previous and she lived with her father, a kind man in his late forties who tried his best to provide for his daughter and step-son.

To help her aging father and brother who worked in the fields all day, she babysat the village children for money and mended worn clothes of the other villagers, using the money she earned to give her family food, though her father had her set aside a third of the profits for herself. And now, sitting on a stool in the village head's home, sewing closed a tear in his youngest son's breeches, quietly keeping an eye on his three-year-old daughter who played with wooden carved toys in the corner, she recalled the past month in longing, wishing to go through the time again.

~CLUBS~

It started with word catching fire though the kingdom that their king had died of a dreaded illness, the same one to take her mother's life, and that in a ten days, his eldest, and only, son, Ivan Braginski, would be crowned king of the Clubs Kingdom. Word quickly spread, and Hannah was only able to smile in sadness, knowing her family would not be able to travel to the capital, just as the rest of her village would not be able to.

This fact did not truly depress her, but she had always wanted to see the capital in person, remembering the stories her father told her from when he met her mother there while she was still a highly requested woman of fashion and cloth making. The bustling streets filled with men and women dressed in clothes of finely spun silk and resplendent satin opposite rough cotton and soft wool, colors vibrant and beautiful from every specter of the rainbow, not the dull, drained shades of earth brown, deluded green, wheat beige, and pitch black only seen in the far villages.

Her fate seemed to change, however, when she woke to the neighing of horses and the hushed cooing of a masculine voice the day after she heard of the death of the kingdom's beloved king. Rising from her cot of rough canvas stuffed with hay, pushing away the old wool blanket covering her, she looked to the window, a mere square open to let early morning light shine though in golden hues, she cough barely see the top of a white cover. Rising, she walked to the window to find her father loading an old, beat up cart she recognized at Mr. Curan's donkey haul up with things usually seen for a traveling family. Her parent's bed and blankets, pots and pans, and food, more than she'd seen in her whole life, enough for a weeks travel. She briefly wondered where her brother was before remembering he left for the field two hours before daybreak was even thought of each and everyday save Sunday, a day of the week she forced her father and brother to take as a break until midday. She forgot today was Monday.

"Daddy," she called to him, watching him visibly jump and almost drop the small chest he was hauling onto the cart, the one filled with her family's clothes, both special occasion clothes and old ones, "what are you doing with Mr. Curan's cart?"

He turned to his daughter, head of short, navy cut hair, bleached white from years in the blazing sun, turning red in the rise of the sun, blue eyes hidden behind square spectacles warm as he saw his daughter, standing there, rubbing sleep from her hazel eyes, body conveying how tired she was. Rarely did she let anyone see her so filled with sleep, usually fully awake by the time he saw her, watching her run around the tiny kitchen, putting together breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the raw daylight for him and Joseph, her half-brother. Now he saw her in the fresh of things and particularly liked his daughter showing a vulnerable side, telling him she was yet to be fully grown and ready to leave home.

"Baby girl, I'm getting ready for the trip."

"Trip?" She replied, voice slurred ever so slightly. "Where are you going?"

"Not just me," he replied, walking to the window. "You and Luke are coming to."

Hannah nodded, knowing the decision was final when he used Joseph's nickname, one which branched from his middle name Luther. "Okay, Daddy... Where to?"

He laughed, a deep, belly laugh only she seemed to provoke since her mother died. "Where else at a time like this? We're going to the Club Kingdom's capital, Moscow!"

The dark ash blonde jumped slightly, eyes growing wider as she heard this. "Really?" Her voice couldn't hide the excitement and hope within her. "Are we really going?"

"Of course, after I bring in the final harvest with Luke this afternoon," Hannah's father promised, smile becoming softer a her childish excitement only seen when she was younger than seven. "We leave at sundown."

"We'll, let me get your breakfast and lunch ready!" She replied, grabbing her white apron, not bothering to change her clothing yet. "Will you need dinner tonight, too?"

"No, sweetheart, we'll be eating on the road, okay?" At her nod he was soon back to loading the cart before he was presented with his breakfast and lunch through the window with a stern, "Don't choke while walking, old man."

He scoffed, ruffling her shoulder length bed head even further than it was, making her whine and swat at his hand. Andrew McCullough ran off before his only child Hannah could hit him and off down the dusty road, heading towards the field. Shoulders slumping as he left her gaze, hazy at a distance from her need of glasses like her father, and turned back into the small cottage, pulling the shutters closed behind her and changing into her deep brown skirt, beige poet's shirt, and light brown vest with her apron, slipping on her black flat shoes and fixing her dark ash blonde hair she hadn't been able to wash in weeks.

Leaving home after a fast breakfast, she quickly went through her chores in the small village, babysitting several children without older siblings while mothers attended to their gardens of vegetables, mended clothing in need of help of that day, and then wine track home to her own garden she had, filled with not only vegetables an fruit, but flowers her mother had planted when she first came here years ago with her brother and sister after marrying Hannah's father before she was born.

Finishing her weeding and picking if ripe vegetables and fruit just as the sun began to set she headed back in side, not bothering to fix her dirty clothing as she wrapped dinner, sandwiches with fowl between the slices, in white cotton napkins she never used save for patching clothes she was unable to stitch back together. Sitting down at the small table, it wasn't long before her father and brother came in drenched in sweat, looking satisfied.

"Good fall harvest?"

"Damn straight!" Joseph cheered, throwing a hand in the air. He received a soft laugh from his sister before a shriek as he scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder. "And now it's time to show you where I was born!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

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Nine days later after a long travel, they arrived in the capital in the early morning, Moscow, and Hannah was apprehensive as they stopped the cart outside of the large gates separating the rest of the country from the capital. Sitting in the cart, she watched her father and brother talk to the guards, two tall, burley men dressed in sharp, emerald green, the national color of the Country of Spades. The two checked the cart then opened the gates to let in the trio, and Hannah's father whipped the reins, stirring the horses on into the city, people making room on the crowed streets. Andrew stopped at an inn and got off, telling the two to stay with the cart as he went in to rent rooms. It had nagged at Hannah all week one question; where had her father gotten the money to do any of this?

Knowing her brother would know, she tugged on his shirt sleeve, noting she'd need to repair fraying in his shirt that night. He turned curious blue eyes on her and she asked, "Lukey, how'd Dad get the money for this?"

He blinked, ruffling his short brown hair, saying absently, "You mean Andy didn't tell you?"

"No. How'd he get the money?" She demanded again, huffing.

"Andy got it from Brittany, Hannah. She saved her dowry so we could show you this place one day." Joseph said, voice lowering when their sister's name left his lips. "She wanted you to see where Mom grew up."

Hannah frowned at her brother, trying to connect what he said before muttering, "She shouldn't have done that, Jon could have used it for when he built their home."

"He wanted us to use it for you," replied just before Andrew came from the inn.

"Hannah, Luke, go out and enjoy the city while I deal with unloading everything." He ordered. "Show Hannah the sights, let her enjoy things."

Joseph laughed, jumping off and turning to help his sister down by taking hold of her waist and swinging her down, alighting her on her feet. Hannah gave her father a hug goodbye before Joseph led his sister down into the crowded streets of Moscow. People all around her looked just as she had been told over the years, dressed in beautiful shades of green, pink, red and any other color you could think of, but never once did she see a beige, black, or brown. It made her self conscious in her bland dress that was nothing _but_ beige, brown and black, so self conscious she began to fiddle with the only thing she had left of her mother save her sewing and mending skills: a golden necklace with a small round golden pendent resting on her collar bone. Over the years she had grown attached to it and used it to relieve stress, imagining her mother was the one getting rid of her worry. And right then she asked her mother, thinking to herself, _Mother, please, wherever you are, help me through this city without trouble._

Only moments later, as if a godsend, her hazel eyes spotted a sign she never throughout to see, written in simple, bold letters with a weak underline: **Charli's Fabrics and Other Works**.

Remembering the money she had saved up, hidden in a pouch behind her apron, she tugged on her brother's sleeve, pointing to the shop, looking to him pleadingly. "Lukey, can we go in there, please?" He mulled it over, obviously not play acting the thought on whether to go inside or not, before shrugging.

"Why not? You deserve some nice fabrics, maybe a new needle or two." That idea, even better than finding useless fabric left over for new patches to take home to the village, to spice up the color in her earthen worn home.

With that, they entered, both separating for different parts of the store. Hannah went for the beautiful bolts of fabrics, ranging from cotton to silk, in every color of the rainbow, even dull colors like what she wore, and finger each in delicate scrutiny, an eye held out for the fine tasting material. Satin was soft, the softer thing she had ever felt next to everything, and when her worn fingers, calloused from years of work on a garden and pricking her fingers on needles in small mistakes, never enjoyed such a course material to when she grazed the silk, falling from a bolt in a shimmering, Prussian blue. It felt as if all the pain that had entered those fingers fell away as she tenderly held each and every cloth available, more than she had seen ever in her nineteen years of life, fawning over the felt in a hypnotic state and cooing when she rubbed her fingers to the soft wool, tender care taken, she hoped, when it was smoothed and spun before being waved into what it was now.

Joseph himself took to the smaller items, ones every dedicated woman or man of the material world needed. In a finding silence, he showered over every spool of thread and finely pointed needle, looking for ones he wanted to last his sister the rest of her life. Something to remind her of this visit to their famed capital. Some spools appearing as silver or gold tempted him, as Eve was tempted by the Forbidden Fruit, but left them for more practical ones, finding black and white thread he knew Hannah would need, remembering when in the dead of night, so not a soul would see her tears, she would, tearfully, unravel her favorite, most white handkerchiefs that were once their mother's or older sister's. Now, she never would have to shed tears over beloved objects. With needles, he chose a small packet of ranging sizes for all kinds of materials, and a ball the color of the country's national color filled with some sort of bead to stick them in, one she could attach to her wrist by velcro.

When Joseph headed to the front, he found Hannah held nothing to buy, like he expected, but instead looked down trodden. He did not even need to ask before she replied, voice soft, "It's all to expensive."

"I'm sorry, Hannah. I found some things you can use though." He held up his things and Hannah's eyes sparkled. "I'll pay for them."

She frowned now, "Lukey, no. I can." She went to reach for her apron to pull out her pouch, but he beat her too it, taking out his own leather pouch and setting the things on the counter to the finely dress woman.

He smiled charmingly at her, noting she was about Hannah's age, and said in a suave voice, "Ignore my sister, she's having mental problems currently, a donkey knocked her into a cart of watermelon a few months ago. Can you be a princess and ring up my things?"

The girl blushed, ducking her head, dark brown eyes shimmering in appeasement. Her dark brown, almost black, hair swayed against her back in its low ponytail as she rung up the things Joseph wanted to purchase, telling him the price and paying it without second thoughts and taking the things in the cloth bag he was given, winking at her and earning a giggle.

"Thanks, sugar."

He then walk out of the store, leaving his sister to follow with a gobsmacked look. When they exited the store, she hit her brother on the shoulder, who merely laughed at his sister's expense. She glared back, huffing and crossing her arms before walking ahead of him, refusing to acknowledge him in her anger of being provided for. It was stupid, but she preferred to provide for her family and deal with her own problems.

"C'mon, Hannah!" He reasoned, "Now you can use your money to buy yourself a dress or somethin'!"

"I did not want a dress." She snorted. "I wanted to buy myself some fabric for when I patched clothes and get you and Daddy's new shirts."

"You still can get Andy and me new shirts! How much do you have?" He caught up to his fast paced sister, holding out a hand for her pouch. Reluctantly, she pulled it out, giving it to him in exchange for the bag of goods. Dumping the gold, silver, and copper she had into his large hand, he counted everything. "Yeah, you have enough to get Andy and me shirts. One each and leave some for you to buy yourself something. We need to head to the cheaper side of the city, though." He grinned at his nervous sister as he dumped her money back in its holder. "Mom always made the most money by heading over there on Saturdays and Sundays."

That got Hannah and she pulled him along, even though she knew not where to go. After some time, he took the lead and they set off on their adventure once more.

~CLUBS~

The nineteen-year-old smiled down at the soft cotton shirt the color of a fresh cloud, holding it up to the evening sun light so it glowed a fiery orange. _Daddy will love this_, she thought to her self in satisfaction. _He'll adore it. _Her father never got new things, hardly ever did she or her siblings save on occasions such as their birthdays, so she knew he would accept the gift she had gotten him. Joseph already had, wearing his fresh shirt proudly, showing his rippling muscles from years of heavy lifting through the short sleeved, peasant shirt, his in-need of mending one hidden away in her bag holding the needles and thread.

"Daddy's been needing a new shirt for awhile. He'll like it," she said to herself before folding it and placing it in the bag above her brother's old one, eyes glimmering in pleasantry.

"Of course, it's from the pauper princess of the family. He'll love it." Joseph replied, winking at a few girls who giggled.

"Pauper princess?" Hannah repeated in confusion. "Why would you call me that?"

"I'm not the only one. The whole village does," he explained. "You mend clothes and make them look brand new, you have the air of a princess without realizing it, and you over all would look like one if you were dressed in the clothes this city wears."

"I would not!" Hannah yelped in slight shock. "I'm the most ugly person alive, and it's only reinforced by the dirt and pimples on my face, my cracked, dirt covered fingernails, and greasy hair. My eyes are too narrow and my cheeks and nose too red. I'm ugly."

Joseph scoffed. "If you want ugly, take a look at the makeup caked chicks in this city." He pointed to an old lady going the opposite direction practically _made_ of makeup, causing Hannah to giggle then- to her horror- snort, making her blush. The old woman scoffed in indignation and disgust, picking up her walk in the opposite direction. "You're adorable, and all you need is to clean off the dirt and leave those pimps alone to let 'me die off, not to mention clean your hair, and your pretty much a beaut."

It was her brother, yes, but being called beautiful, by anyone, and it had her blushing. She rarely got any complement on her looks, and being a city filled with pretty people made her feel far more ugly, so this did flatter her when she usually would scoff and call the person a liar. Hannah still felt it was a lie, however, she just did not enforce it.

Giggling with her apron front, she murmured delicately, "Thank you, Joseph." He smiled back, wrapping an arm to pull her into a quick side hug before continue his quiet flirt with any young woman passing in a skirt.

The two fell into silence, not saying anything, and Hannah looked to each shop window in wonderment, enjoying the site of actual glass windows, having never seen it except when she traveled with her sister four years ago to a village closer to the capital to help with a birth for a newborn baby which was laying the wrong way, apparently.

A dress caught her eye at one point, making her stop. She walked closer to the window, eyes scrutinizing the dress as she put her hands behind her back. It was a Prussian blue, falling to her ankles, she guessed, if she wore it. The top was a little low in a heart dip, possibly meant to show a little cleavage in tease, with scarlet red ruffles across the top, and sleeves that started just as your shoulders began to dip down and fell to the elbows before giving way to the same scarlet ruffles. The ruffles appeared silk while the dress in itself looked cotton, or maybe wool. It was a dress she wished she could try on, but knew she couldn't, not ever with how dirty and unruly she was.

She did however put the name of the place to stock in her mind, it being called the _The Pauper's Palace_. An odd name with how high the quality of the dress was, but who was she to argue? Maybe it was a ruse to discourage high-class people so the more poor could buy from there. What every the reason, she turned and ran after her brother, never noticing the man with kind green eyes and shoulder length blonde hair looking at her from the shop's window, dressed in a fancy violet skirt, ankle brown boots, and deep pink poet's shirt. He made a humming sound before the dress was promptly pulled from the window.

Joseph and Hannah arrived to the inn a little after sunset, finding Andrew in the dining area of the pub on the lower floor, waiting for them with a glass of water. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he watched his children come up, asking even before they sat down, "How did the day go?"

"Excellent." The two replied before looking to each other and grinning, saying, "Still got it!"

The older man rolled his eyes, pursing his lips which ruffled his peppered mustache, and sighed. "We'll. then, what do you have to show me?"

Hannah picked up her bag and pulled out the shirt, spreading it out on the wooden table delicately, as if it would tear easily. "We-" "You, Hannah," Joseph broke in. "I bought you a new shirt. Your current one needs a wash and some mending I couldn't get done in just seven hours."

He nodded. "Thank you, baby girl. It's wonderful." He picked it up, feeling what it was made of. "Wool?" He smiled. "I love it. Perfect for the upcoming months."

Living in Clubs meant two things: one; cold, freezing weather during the winter that killed most crops and two; snow unless you lived farthest from Moscow on the country's skirts, though you still got very cold whether that killed crops. They were said to most likely have a bit of snowfall that winter and Hannah wanted her family as well off as possible.

"What else is there?" He questioned after folding the shirt and placing it to the side. "Something for yourself I hope, such as a new dress?"

"No, I'm sorry," apologized his daughter, pulling out the needles, spools, and pin holder. "Just some things for my sewing kit." She sighed. "There was some fabric, but it was far too much..."

Andrew frowned. "Hannah, the money was supposed to be for yourself, not just your brother and I." At Hannah's shrug, he held out a hand. "Hand me your coins." She knew better than to argue and gave the pouch to her father, and he counted what money she had left before handing it all back. "Tomorrow, when we leave, I am going to send you to get something _for yourself._ Understand? You deserve something." He stood, setting down gold coins from his pocket. "We'll discuss the rest of this tomorrow morning. Eat some dinner then come on up to bed you two." He then left, heading up to the lodgings of the inn.

"Yes, sir." Both replied in sync again as he left, one feeling chastised like a bad pet and the other indifferent. Joseph looked to his sister. "You should have gotten yourself _something_, y'know."

"I would have, but I wanted to have enough for you and Daddy," Hannah mumbled, crossing her arms as a bar wench came up, asking for orders. "You guys need clothes for winter." Already, being here in Moscow, Hannah could feel the biting chill of winter, and autumn had barely begun yet. The fall harvest was brought in, and now they had to make due until spring sprung again.

Joseph shook his head at her antics, telling the wench to bring a jug of water and their house specialty, sending her off as soon as possible. "You need to start thinking about yourself, too. Everyone in our village worries about themselves, so you should too."

"It's not in me, though." She objected. "It's just not, and you know it! You all look out for me."

"You haven't matured enough to take care of yourself yet, meaning we have to."

"We'll, that's stupid! I can handle myself!"

"Fine." Joseph leaned back in his chair, pointing to a large man, dressed in the guard uniform. "Get him to give you a few gold coins."

Hannah looked between her brother and the man, mouth agape. "You must be joking!"

"No. Now do it, any other woman would be able to."

"By selling him their body!" Cried she in disgust, rising from her seat as their water was brought. She took it, taking a long drink from the jug before slamming it to the table and heading upstairs in disgust at her brother for proposing she try to get the man to give her money.

Upstairs, she found the room she would share with her brother and father, the latter of who was already asleep, and shed her apron, skirt, vest and shirt, leaving her to change into her nightgown before climbing into her bed, a simple cot on the floor with thick blankets. Rolling to face the wall before settling to laying on her stomach, hands on top of one another under her right cheek.

Lying there, thinking, she realized maybe coming here wasn't going to be a simple trip like she had thought. Their was a coronation tomorrow for her new king, and she was being sent into a city she had no sense of direction in, looking like a pauper, just like in the story the Prince and the Pauper, only she was a girl and there was no princess to trade places with. The worst thing was, she knew she didn't have enough to even buy a shirt, let alone a dre-

Her thought process slowed at that, thinking of the dress she saw earlier in the shop called _The Pauper's Palace_, maybe there was something their she could find, even that dress she liked. It wasn't very sensible, getting a dress that would be ruined by yard work and baby food, but it was a thought to indulge, her father always wanted her to, and her brother continuously pushed the prospect of indulgence on her part. Hannah decided then to return to that shop the next day as soon as her father set her loose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, not the Cardverse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me, back off.**

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The next day found Hannah being woken by her father who appeared eager to be up and about today. Groggily, Hannah rolled over, pulling a thick woolen blanket overhead, not thinking of what day it was.

"Daddy, go away," voice thick with sleep which made him chuckle. "It's too... early..." H voice seem to echo in the empty room before being cut off by her father now _laughing_. Hannah pushed away the blanket, picked up her head, and turned to her paternal parent. "Wha'?"

"It's almost nine."

Without thinking, Hannah threw back the covers, fretting over the harvest and garments in need of repairing before stopping and surveying her surroundings. Her eyes took on an owlish gleam as she looked around before everything caught up to her and she face palmed.

"Figures."

A hand patterned her back while something dropped into her lap. Looking down, she found it was her clothes, neatly folded and freshly washed and dried.

"Daddy, what...?"

"Joseph payed the innkeepers's wife to wash them last night."

Hannah picked up her shirt, fingering the pristine, beige material. Her eyes roved over it, seeing stains once there now gone. She wanted so say "he shouldn't have" when she was happy he did. They didn't have soap where they lived, so when she washed their clothes in the river, their was no way to take out the stains.

"I need to tell him thank you."

"You're welcome." Joseph called, smirk on his face when Hannah looked up at him, "It was nothing, sis."

"We'll," Andrew got to his feet, brushing off his breeches and effectively cutting of the talk, "lets go find the square, huh? That's where the palace is, and where the coronation is taking place at one-thirty."

"Very well," Hannah agreed, standing, clothes clutched to her chest. "May you exit so I can change, please?"

Both men left and she quickly changed before leaving the room, heading down to the pub of the inn, seeing her family sat at a table, three cups of water sat with them. Joseph handed one to her as she sat beside him, taking a long drink from his own. Sipping from her's, she let her father order breakfast, conversing with her brother and father at times before the meal came. They ate in silence before paying, leaving for the day afterwards. Hannah found the streets were more crowded today than compared to yesterday, and it oddly made her the opposite of her apprehensive self from the day before. Excitement coursed through her blood as they walked, heading to the center of the large city.

"This is soooo fun!" Squealed Hannah, looking around at everyone in fascination.

"If you so enthusiastic, then this is the perfect time to tell you when we reach the square, you're to go find something for yourself and must be back by one." Andrew informed Hannah and she nodded, recalling the way to _The Pauper's Palace_. "It's settled."

"Andy, why not I-"

"No, Lukey. I wanna go on my own. I can handle myself." The young woman cut off crossly, glaring at her half-brother testily. He himself glared back before consenting to his sister's wish with a sigh. She threw a fist into the air. "Yes!"

Soon they reached the square and Hannah left with a goodbye, tracing her steps back to the inn then to _The Pauper's Palace_.

To Hannah's dismay, the blue and red was gone from the window, replaced by a dress of pure white, much like a wedding dress without the veil. Not able to turn back, due to having no other place to go, she walked to the shop and hesitantly pushed open the door, listening tot he chimes as they were disturbed. Walking to the counter, she found a handsome man with kind green eyes and shoulder blonde hair, dressed in a flattering shirt of white and red. She smiled and asked tentatively, "Sir, do you have a dress similar to the one in your shop window yesterday?"

He cocked his head to the side in confusion before familiarity struck his eyes. "Oh!" His voice held a foreign drawl. "Darlin', we still, like, have that dress! Saved it just for you, darlin'!"

Hannah's eyes widened, taken aback, stuttering out as he came from behind the counter, "Re-really, sir, but... Oh, my! I'm so sorry, ma'am!"

The man was actually a woman, being dressed in a scarlet satin skirt with cute ankle boots in a deep burgundy shade.

"Him?" She looked to the skirt before laughing and waving a hand daintily. "Oh, no, honey! I'm as male as you father, don't worry! I just like to, like, cross dress."

"... Oh..." She murmured as the man snapped his fingers and two beautiful women came from the back room, leading her back there. "Wha-what? What's going on!?"

"We, darlin', are going to, like, give you a fabulous makeover!" The cross dressing man replied happily. "You're a beauty, just need to, like, clean up!"

He then went around the back room gathering bathing items as the two women stripped the confused young woman of her clothes, leaving her standing there, shivering and stark naked to all eyes. She tried covering her privates, blushing madly at letting these strangers do this. The women had her soon step into a steaming tub of water and heavenly scents she wore resembled watermelon and apples, squeaking at the burning sensation along her body that took out many nots she had when she finally relaxed into it. One forced her head under without warning, pulling her head up soon after, Hannah spluttering and coughing.

She stared at each woman, dressed in long, emerald gowns, thick blonde hair held back in neat buns and blue eyes glittering in the candle light. The left, shorter and younger than the other, lathered her hands in shampoo before sudsing her hair into a small tower. The right attacked her body, using a sprung provided by the man to rub her pink flesh raw.

"Do you have eye problems?" Questioned the man to the still confused dark ash blonde who was barely able to sputter out a "yes" before she was dunked under to get the shampoo from her hair and upper body. When she came back up again, he was working on skinning her lower body. The tall woman chanted something, a finely manicured hand covering her eyes.

Lights flashed in her eyes as the woman continued her chanting, giving Hannah a slight headache as it progressed. It died as the woman pulled back her hand, chanting first thing Hannah noticed, next to the feel of conditioner being ran through her hair, was how clearer the room at a distance had become, no longer blurry. Her mouth dropped open at this, having never witnessed magic though she had heard highly of it from passing merchants heading into her kingdom or out into another. The woman at her hair lightly pushed up her chin before dunking Hannah back into the burning water, thoroughly scrubbing out the conditioner laced through the locks.

Coming up again, she let herself be cleaned, letting the trio do as they pleased with her, banishing the thought of fighting against this handling that was both delicate and harsh. The man himself tipped her head back as the tall lady rubbed oil into Hannah's legs, clucking at the scars and white spots on her face, taping one in particular on her curved nose.

"Oh, dear. That _totally_ won't do. Cynthia," he snapped his fingers and the tall woman gave a last swipe of oil to Hannah's legs before coming to stand over him. "Give her a spell to, like, keep that face clear the rest of her, like, life, m'kay, babe?"

"Yes, Mr. Łukasiewicz," Cynthia nodded, kneeling beside the tub as Mr. Łukasiewicz went to the hazel eyed woman's toes, cleaning each and everyone as the shorter took up a hand with a file, filing the broken, dirt encrusted nails, cleaning them with precision.

Cynthia pulled out a tube of some green ointment and looked the teen in the eyes saying a strictly no-nonsense tone, "Be still." Hannah nodded and it wasn't long before the green paste was layered on her face, cooling the tender skin from the steaming heat of the tub water. The woman had Hannah close her eyes to smooth it over her eyelids, bright bursts of warm colors behind her eyelids is what she saw before opening them to the blazing candle light.

"Wow." The younger woman breath out, stopping her work to look at Hannah. "She really is pretty, and her red cheeks and nose make her adorable." A blush lit the woman's face at the reproachful look from Cynthia and she ducked her head. "Sorry, miss. I spoke out of turn." She went back to work.

"No. No, it's fine," replied she, smiling. "I enjoy listening to people talking, about anything really."

The woman opened her mouth to reply but Mr. Łukasiewicz beat her to it, lifting his head to look at her. "Darlin', that's a good thing, 'cause I, like, love talking. Marie, go fetch gloss for her, like, nails and a..." He narrowed his eyes at Hannah, narrowing in on her lips. "Princess pink lip gloss. Perfect for her."

Marie left her nails and left the room, coming back with a bottle of clear liquid and vial of light pink. She set to work running the liquid, which quickly hardened, over her cleaned nails, giving a shine to them. "Open your lips, please." Marie ordered, performing the motion of opening her mouth in the way Hannah was to copy before a soft, small brush ran over her lips, leaving a pink glossed shine.

Mr. Łukasiewicz stood, chattering on about something about fashion and the Diamond Kingdom's newest winter line as he left the room, waving his hand. Cynthia and Marie helped the young woman from the tub, wrapping a large fluffy towel around her right under her armpits, smaller towel thrown over her shoulders to catch dripping water. She was led into another room and into a chair, sat down in it and a brush was immediately ran through her hair to smooth it out.

"You're very pretty with straight hair," Marie spoke absently, clipping split ends she found and leveling the hair to an inch above Hannah's shoulders. "Now you'll look beautiful in the gown we have."

Hannah turned to look at Marie, only to find it was Cynthia now behind her, drying the dark ash hair by running her hair, glimmering with magic, through it.

"Are you a magician?" Hannah asked in awe.

"No." Cynthia replied stoically. "I am a witch. A good one."

"Amazing," was all she could say before her a leg was lifted, warm wool pulled up to her knees, clinging to it, followed by the other one being led up to hug her knee and calf. Dark brown boots, possibly made of leather, pressed the woolen socks closers as they were slid on her feet, stopping at her knees. Marie patted the boots, fixing the socks where they poked out. "I can't have these!" Hannah protested, bending down to pull the boots and socks off, but her hands were slapped away.

"They are are free, as is everything else," Mr. Łukasiewicz informed her, a Prussian blue dress slung over an arm, red hidden along it. "All is free, darlin'."

Hannah pushed herself from her seat, fretful. "I can't allow that! At least let me pay for the dress!" Mr. Łukasiewicz shook his head and Hannah bit her bottom lip. "I beg of you, please let me!"

"Naw. Too pretty to spend your money here. Wait until you're rich." He winked. "Then you an he your wedding dress here."

Her shoulders slumped, the tease and complements flying over her head, seeing the resolve in the man's eyes, it was just as her own, though far more strong. "Very well, I see no way out of this."

Mr. Łukasiewicz grinned. "Good, now arms up and eyes closed."

Biting her bottom lip harder, unsure but knowing better by this point, she closed her hazel eyes and raised her arms, feeling the towels fall away and cold air embrace her. Something of silk origins hugged her upper body before it fell down past her knees, meddling to her body like a second skin. Cool wind ran its humble fingers over her shoulders and upper chest. Warm hands alighted on her shoulders, turning her and pushing her forward towards something.

Heated breath rustled her hair, hands rising to pull her bangs from her face to tuck them behind her ears. "M'lady... Look."

Opening her eyes, Hannah bit back a gasp when she saw herself, dressed, not as a pauper, but a wealthy woman. Tears rising to her hazel eyes, she put a hand to the reflective glass, taking in her appearance. Her skin was clean and smooth, speckled here or there with light freckles, glowing in a milky white shade, contrasting grandly, yet beautifully, with the dress she had seen the da before. Said dress clung to her curves, revealing how much of a woman she was and did tease just a little of her chest so every every man could see. Hannah's hair, usually greasy and lifeless, floated around her shoulders aglow with life and tucked back from her face to reveal gentle, narrow hazel eyes and curved light eyebrows leading down to a round nose and full lips, standing out to high cheekbones and clear skin. Hr cheeks were a natural rosy red, nose a lighter hue.

"I, I, I..."

"I, like, knew you were beautiful the moment you, like, stopped to see the dress," Mr. Łukasiewicz explained. "You have that fabulous look and aura about you, of a person who, like, loves anyone and everyone, only wanting the total best for people. You could have, like, totally dragged that man back, made him buy you this same fabu gown, but instead wanted the money for your family, am I right?" He pecked her cheeks, making her cheeks warm. "I decided if you came back, if gift this to you and more, to always have something to indulge in."

She turned to Mr. Łukasiewicz, needing to look away from herself. "Thank you, sir."

"Feliks Łukasiewicz, but call me, like, Feliks, Miss...?"

"Hannahlee McCullough, but my friends and family call me Hannah."

He lifted her hand, kissing it as a small bag made of khaki canvas was handed to him by Cynthia. Elevating her hand, he held it out to her and she slowly took the bag, looking inside to find her clothes and pouch of money were inside. Looking up, Feliks grinned at her. "Darlin', come back anytime." He tapped her gold necklace, "A lovely heirloom, fyi."

He walked around her, leaving the back room and Marie stepped forward.

"Miss, I will show you out, if in need of such service."

"Oh, no, I've got it, Marie." Marie's face lit up like the Heart Kingdom national color and she bowed, backing out slowly.

Pulling out her pouch, Hannah found it felt heavier and she dared to not look inside before tucking it into her right boot and threw the bag over her shoulder, leaving and trying to ignore the 'clack, clack, clack' of her new boots. She dared a look back at the full length mirror before leaving.

_First a little pauper,_ Hannah thought, _now I'm a Cinderella._ She sighed, knowing she'd be dirty and ugly again soon, though she remembered the spells to her eyes and face hygiene would never vanish, which did please her.

Stopping by the inn to leave her new bag there, she headed to the square at a slow pace once seeing it was a good thirty or so minutes from one o'clock. The streets quickly became packed and she had to fight to find her way, slowing her down considerably. When there was a sudden gap, she ran through it, barely noticing there was a procession and that was why the street cleared. A voice shouted at her to move, followed by a shout of her name, and Hannah was only able to turn and let out a partial shriek of fear as a horse reared up in front of her.

Stumbling to the ground, she threw up arms to her face, waiting for the pain, but finding herself hauled up in large warm arms and pressed against a firm chest and wind pushing her hair behind her as a male scream of agony and cries of shock rang through the air.

Opening her eyes, Hannah looked up into cold violets which unsettled her, the hues paired with hair the color of her mother's wedding dress tucked away in its box in the bottom of the family's chest. His eyes briefly flickered down to her before stopping, setting her down on her feet. Hannah opened her mouth to say thank you, but the scarlet spreading over cobblestones out of the corner of her eyes stopped her. Turning, the snow white shirt, ruffled brown hair, and evenly tanned skin barely registered before her face had lost its color and she was shoving past her savior screaming,

_**"LUKEY!"**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

* * *

"I am sorry for what happened to him, Mrs. McCullough." Ivan informed the distraught young woman as he entered the temporary bedchamber of the girl and her brother. It was both of theirs because she refused to leave his side as of three hours ago, when the accident with the horse happened.

What happened was they began the coronation early, thinking it better than to keep the kingdom waiting, and Hannah had run out to cross to her father and brother, not knowing the crowd had parted as the Red Sea had to let the soon-to-be king, Ivan, pass. Due to this, she had startled the horse Ivan had been on. He was thrown off but had caught himself from crashing to the cobblestones. Seeing the young woman in distress, about to be killed by his own horse for being directly in the line of its front hoof to her face, he saved her before it could happen. It so happened at that exact moment Joseph had broken through the crowd and run to his sister's aid as Ivan carried her off to the side, and he was instead caught under the horse as it came down, luckily only catching him in the lower leg and knocking him unconscious.

A nearby guard calmed down the horse as Hannah ran to her brother, shaking him and screaming at him to wake up. Ivan had ordered another guard to pull her away and had another rush the unconscious man to the palace infirmary. After giving a sedative to the young woman to calm her, explained what happened to their father, and thorough check of the young man to make sure he would live, Ivan had declared to postpone the coronation until he was sure one of his own subjects, harmed due to his own impatience, was healed. And that is how Joseph found himself placed in a large bed of comfort, unconscious, and his sister in a seat across from him, holding a hand in her's tenderly, Ivan standing just inside the doorway in respect. It may have been his own home, but he understood the value of family and privacy.

"It is okay, Your Highness," Hannah replied quietly, rubbing the skin atop her brother's hand with a thumb. "It's also my own fault, for not thinking before acting."

"So it may be," Ivan countered, taking this as the initiative to enter, he came to stand beside the bed. "It is also my own for not watching out for young ladies trying to find their husbands."

Hannah jerked her hands from her brother's, turning slightly in her chair to stare up at the tall man, expressive hazel connecting with passive violet. Her face held outrage and shock, going stark white, whiter than when she saw her brother laying on the ground, blood draining from him.

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but did you say 'husbands'?"

He rose a fine, pale brow. "Is that not what Sir Joseph is to you? Your husband?"

She let out a bark of laughter, quickly catching herself and covering her mouth, though it did not stop the amusement in the prince's eyes. "No. God, no," she shook her head, look one of exasperation. "He's my brother. Half, albeit, but still my brother. If I may, where do you hear such a thing, Your Highness?"

"Your mannerisms." At her own questioning look, one spread over her whole face, he elaborating to the village girl. "You reacted as a faithful family member or wife would when he was wounded, the odd endearment you have of a nickname for him lead me to believe similar, and the man, your father, held more semblance to Joseph than yourself. You are acting right now as my elder sister does to her husband when they visit, tracing circles into his hand randomly. I supposed from all these, it was a higher guess to say he was your husband."

Hannah contemplated his words, it was true she did those things, but what younger sister didn't when devoted to her family as a makeshift mother? Whatever the count of younger sisters who did this, Hannah only knew she did this, and she gave the royalty her most charming smile, speaking to him in a tender tone reserve for her family and crying children.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but he is only my half-brother, and I am only nineteen. I've only been available for marriage for a years time, not enough time to find and fall in love with a man and marry him." She looked back at her brother, frowning. "He, however, should have married and left years ago. He's been stuck working the farm with Daddy when he should be off finding a nice woman."

Ivan's eyebrows rose at this. Farm? How curious, neither Joseph nor she appeared to be from a farm. The clothes Hannah wore indicated a high class, and the man himself plainly looked aristocratic, not meant for field work. Looking at the unconscious male in a closer fashion, though, he did find the traces of dirt under his nails as well as rubbed into his skin and thorough work that had to have happened to callous strong, sure hands. Flickering briefly over his companion, he found she held no resemblance to a village girl, no trace at all, and that begged a question at him.

"How?"

Hannah looked at her higher power, having gone back to her circles on her brother's hand. He repeated himself and somehow, she immediately understood what he meant with the single word. She placed her brother's hand over his abdomen and leaned back in the chair before stating the whole happening in the shop, save the bit about being called beautiful and how she gave off a 'caring aura.' The crown prince listened attentively to her, taking in everything as she spoke and only could nod when she finished.

"Makes much sense."

"Really, Your Highness?" She questioned herself. "It hardly made sense to me, and all I had planned was to see if I could buy the dress."

"Instead, the shopkeeper made you late and gave you the opportunity to meet your future king,". Ivan replied, slight smirk in his voice that upset her. He noticed this and frowned. "Forgive me, that was out of line, even for my status."

She blinded, taken aback by this. "N-no, it is my fault!" She bowed her head. "I was inconsiderate to my king's humor!"

He smiled lightly, shaking his head. "I was not being humorous, that is why I am out of line." He reached out to her, tilting her chin so she no longer looked at the floor. "I would like to request you to not bow your head in disgrace at my presence."

Once again, their eyes connected and this time a small blush graced Hannah's face, unnoticeable due to the natural rogue on her cheeks. Ivan gave a charming smile and lifted up a hand to kiss I the knuckles, this time making the blush noticeable, eliciting a chuckle from deep within him. Setting her hand down in her lap, he turned to leave the room, stopping on the threshold to inform her of good news.

"He should be awake by tomorrow evening, _Miss_ McCullough."

Before anything else could be said, the man of the highest standing was gone.

~CLUBS~

Hannah was woken from her chair by a young man with dark brown hair and a cowl lick, glasses containing serious dark violet eyes the next morning. His lips were pressed into a fine line as he ordered her to stand up. She did, groggily, and two maids dressed in frilly, green dresses and gossamer aprons rushed in, straightening up everything and dusting things. She watched in fascination as they did this, watching one in particular interest as she fixed the duvet Joseph slept under, body rigid until the woman left his side.

After the maids had left, the dark haired man bowed in a stolid fashion to her, voice still terse a he spoke to her. "His Majesty has requested you join him for breakfast in ze parlor. If you so vish to accept, I am to escort you, madam, to him. Your meal shall be brought here to you if you decline."

Several times, she opened her mouth to reply, then found herself unable to so she hand no choice but to close her lips. Quietly, she nodded and the man led her from the room, walking ahead at a brisk pace she jogged, or skipped, to keep up with as best as able. The man's back was straighter than rod or pole, posture and manners just as much, and Hannah found herself nick naming the man 'Rod' with no knowledge of his true name. Whether this was classified as rude or not, she didn't sure more quite care, though there was _some_ guilt. Frankly, she only wanted to giggle at the name she'd given him, yet didn't knowing she'd come off air headed. That wouldn't do.

"I am ze Jack of zis Kingdom, und you vill call me as such, undershtood?" Rod explained, not looking back to see if she understood.

"Yes, sir, Jack," she informed him as a maid passed and Hannah shook her head, making the maid giggle.

He spun like a top to face them, both women falling silent and lifeless. Rod glared at each of them before turning and continuing his pace. Waving to the maid, they parted ways, Hannah once again began jogging to keep up. Rod seemed to have had his feathers ruffled at the giggles of obvious disrespect, and Hannah felt oddly good about that.

"You are to speak to his His Majesty as Your Highness or Your Majesty. Ze latter is preferable unless he says ozervise." Hannah hid a snort a this, making sure to continue calling Ivan by what she had. "Und if Mistress Elizabeta dines vith you, you are to act invisible."

At this, Hannah had to force herself to walk, let alone keep up. The sudden weight of not spending time along with the future king stuck her terribly hard, and she wondered why she hadn't known they would most likely have others with them, such as a mistress Ivan had in mind for future queen or officials there to speak to him on important matters. Still, it was a sudden pang in her chest. But why? She hadn't known him long enough to care, just a few hours. Besides, as soon as Joseph was recovered and they were gone, he was bound to forget them, the peasant farmer and his children. Her eyes began to trail the floor, forgetting that Rod was talking to her.

"Do you undershtand?"

Hannah jumped, looking up and seeing they stood before a door of mahogany, the Jack of Clubs looking at her in expectancy. She prayed to any deity out there that she had missed nothing important.

"Yes, sir."

"Gut."

He opened the door for her, ushering her into the parlor where a table set for two sat in the middle. Light streamed in through a high window, lighting the room with the morning light brightly, added by candles here or there, accenting each piece of furniture and book and, her heart stopped and her inhale of breath fought, Ivan. She would admit, if someone asked, her looked handsome in the white sleep shirt her wore that opened far enough down to reveal a small stretch of pale chest, appearing far more flattering in the thin shirt than the stuffy outfit of royalty he wore the day before. She could confess the sleepy, yet very much alert, look in his violet eyes made her heart beat faster than it should have, especially when he saw her and the eyes took on a warmer hue. She would never, ever tell how she wanted to touch his hair, to feel the soft, beige-white locks through her fingers, for they looked soft like a rabbit's fur, and sit on his lap and feel the heat he undoubtably gave off. No, never could she say that when she was just a pauper and he a future king.

Ivan stood when he saw her, moving to pull out her seat. Rod behind made a sound of disgust, as well as a partial sound of 'your,' but a glare was aimed past her at the man. The cold glare sent a shiver of fear down Hannah's spine, seeing the power behind the man who seemed so harmless to her with that one look. It hasn't been aimed at her, but she still fought to not cower at him.

"Roderich, you may go." He dismissed the man before turning to Hannah with a gentle smile, one much like that of a child. The sound of the door clicking softly softly behind them echoed momentarily before Ivan spoke again, "Have a seat, Miss McCullough."

Brushing off the recent event, Hannah smiled back politely and sat down in the proffered seat, letting him push in the chair though everything told her she was to do it herself. The future king sat across from her, striking up conversation almost immediately with a casual question.

"Your necklace looks old, was it your mother's?"

Hannah's hand flew to the prized possession protectively, breath catching. She hadn't expected it to be brought up, no else asked of it. "Yes... My Mother grew up here, and my great-grandmama passed it to her when she died."

"Is it safe to assume you gained it in a similar situation?" He questioned again, watching her gaze lose its light, making him frown without her response. "I am sorry. Forgive me for speaking."

She waved a hand, laughing shakily. "Your Highness, it's fine to speak of my Mother. She died when I was seven, barely remember her with my terrible memory, but Daddy always tells me about her."

"Still, forgive me." Ivan apologized. "It is terrible to lose someone you care deeply about." He knew better than anyone how she felt, and Hannah, despite feeling terrible for him, was glad for this. Glad to have someone to talk to over this.

"Why not talk about something else of a lighter topic, hm, Your Highness?" Hannah suggested in a more lighthearted tone, smile amiable. "I can assure you the harvest from my village this year has been bountiful before the winter this year."

The two fell into a comfortable speech after this, only broken when the maids brought their breakfast. It was a small meal, to Ivan at least when accustomed to lavish feasts, consisting of eggs in omelet form, bacon cooked crisply, pancakes lighter than air and several other small foods paired with a glass of milk, one of orange juice, and a cup of water placed to the side as drink choice. They continued to talk over the meal, getting to know each other better, both learning things they had never known.

Ivan never knew the bitter weather the capital faced never, if at all, reached the outer villages, or the fact many of the villages were illiterate and didn't have means to properly care for people if disease struck. He was shocked by this and the fact his father never addressed this. Hannah herself learned living as royalty wasn't everything people thought. Many times as a child Ivan ate in his room alone or in the dining hall by himself due to his father being busy with work, and now he had to do things he not only disagreed with but at times knew where wrong, and had no one to turn to for non-bias advise. Not only did they learn this about the different life-styles, they told and earned new secrets they never knew they would one day have. Secrets about dreams, hopes for the future, their loves of long ago and so may more. It was positively marvelous and both wee sorry to see time pass so quickly in two hours when Ivan was called to a meeting.

As they exited the parlor, the man stopped the young woman and took a hand in his, pressing the knuckles tenderly to his lips. He gave her a sweet, childish, almost secretive, smile as he let the hand fall back to her side, leaving her blushing and a tingling sensation up her arm, stemming from her hand.

"Miss McCullough, I would like to request you to call me by my name. No more 'Your Highness' or 'sir.'" He urged softly, taking her hands in his again. "Within two hours of merely talking with you and eve along everything about me to you, I can now call you a friend, and my friends call me by my name."

Hannah looked up into his eyes, smile cheeky. "Only if you call me Hannah."

He squeezed her hands gently, tenderly. "Deal... Hannah." The grin he gave was returned and with that they parted ways.

~CLUBS~

Later in the day, Hannah's brother did awaken, much to her delight. Joseph only stayed with the waking world long enough enough to find where he was and tell his sister he would kick Ivan's ass should he try to make a move on Hannah, whether his king or not. She had merely laughed and gave a pat to the back of the hand she held, promising she would become a nun so he would never have to worry about losing his sister.

"It's not losing you I'm worried about," Joseph revealed. He said no more, falling back to sleep aft this, and the pauper contemplated his meaning to the odd sentence, though she could not find it despite the hour and half she had before Rod- a nickname she refused to change even with knowledge of his real one now- come to inform her that Ivan wanted to dine with her again.

This time, Hannah's voice was not lost as she readily agreed, rising from her chair quickly. Rod sniffed at her disrespect, hearing her call Ivan by name and not title. She gave a small smirk to him, following after the man obediently as he led her down the hallways, bypassing the parlor they had gone to earlier. Confusion rippled through Hannah as they walked longer and farther ahead until he stopped and knocked on a door, a voice called for them to enter and Rod once again pushed open the door for her. He waited until she was inside to close the door and leave.

Hannah could just see Ivan in sat at a large desk of what appear to be hickory, the dim light of the setting sun and few candles giving enough to see by. He seemed a bit sheepish and he was standing, lighting lamps around the room with a small wick he held in his hands to give more light to the damp atmosphere.

"Take a seat, Hannah," he said, lighting another lamp just across the room with apparent difficulty, to the still standing young woman, not giving much mind to much else save his current task. "I will be just a moment."

Instead of following orders, she walked over and took the wick from Ivan's hands gently, shaking her head. "That is not how you light an oil lamp, Ivan. You do it," she slowly dipped the wick into the oil, precarious of a burn, flaring the liquid to burning life, "like this." She went around lighting the others, Ivan trailing behind to watch intently as she explained. "You can't just wrench back when you think you lit the oil, you have to be slow and make sure your hand doesn't over where the flame will spark, then make sure it's burning healthily before moving on. Being skittish is how most people end up with burns, both minor and major. It's also how people end up with no light, because they move back so quickly they blow out the candle."

Unknowingly to her, every word she spoke Ivan hung onto, keeping in mind for later reference as she gave the room more life. As she did, Hannah observed that it was a study or something similar to one, the desk littered with papers, ink, quills and so much more and the room's shelves filled with books only a king would need to use save philosophers and monks. She herself wanted to take a book down and open it and begin reading the histories of her country, not knowing much of its past excluding recent events during her mother's and father's years as children. She held back though, blowing out the candle in her hand and setting it back in its rightful place, taking a seat across from the large chair behind the desk, pulling her legs up to tuck them under her as Ivan took his own seat.

For several moments, the two sat in silence, taking in each other, noting slight changes to themselves seen in the other. The little pauper noted Ivan's wardrobe had changed, but it had to if he was going to a meeting with important people. Going to a meeting in sleepwear wasn't allowed. The prince-soon-to-be-king saw, much to his displeasure, Hannah was still walking around in her wear from yesterday. While Hannah continued to notice smaller and smaller details about Ivan, he mentally noted to have her and her family's things brought to the castle so she could change.

Leaning on his forearms, giving a simple smile, he asked, "How are you enjoying the castle?"

"Hm?" She fell from her cloud of reverie, sitting up straighter as she spoke, "It's fine from what I've seen, which is just two rooms if you exclude the one my brother and me are in."

That would certainly have to change. "How about I give you a personal tour of my home tomorrow, Hannah?"

The ash blonde gave a startled jerk, eyes widening. "Y-you don't have to, Ivan!"

Ivan chuckled, one that was deep and vibrating, the very opposite of his light voice, and Hannah kind herself a bit, well, flustered. He gave another smile filled with everything a friend's smile should have- kindness, friendship, and care, but also so much more a friendly smile wouldn't hold. Hannah couldn't help by return the smile with just as much fervor.

"Hannah," Ivan fiddled with the club pin on his scarf, pulling it off and setting it on the desk, "I _want_ to give you the tour. At least as recompense for your brother."

She opened her mouth several times as if to say something, then once again found nothing just like that morning, and hopelessly closed her mouth each time when nothing would come out. The hopeful look in vibrant violet eyes kept her from her voice, kept her from the 'no' resting on the tip of her tongue, kept her from a rejection brought on from knowing how busy her was.

"Yes," finally she managed out with a sigh and self-reproaching smile. "That a wonderful idea."

Ivan's face shifted into that same grin again, one she felt he never used, not really feeling he was one to grin. He slid the pin across the table, not realizing what he was doing as he gave it to her. "Please, take it as a token of friendship."

Momentarily thinking to say no, Hannah changed her mind an gingerly picked up the green item, not realizing what she had just done as she clipped it to the ruffles of her dress.

"Thank you, it's beautiful."

The two fell once again into conversation, laughing and acting in mirth, unknowing of what they had just done. Ivan had just proposed and Hannah had just unwittingly accepted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

* * *

That night, Hannah was shown a room connect to Joseph's, Ivan not very pleased with her sleeping in a chair the past night. A maid brought her a nightgown made of a soft cloth Hannah couldn't name and, after the maid left after some convincing she didn't need help, gladly changed into the garment before crawling into the bed. The bed was large, as well as comfortable with thick blankets filled with some foreign feather down that quickly warmed and lulled her into a half-dream state. In that state, she played with the club pin she had been gifted, enjoying running he fingers over the smooth, shining surface.

Soon, holding the pin close, Hannah fell within the most peaceful dam she had been given for some time, though when she later awoke she only remembered crystal blue eyes, young one's an almost infant child would have, framed by wheat blonde hair. An echo of here name, spoken from a high-pitched voice, is all she could recall hearing. Siting up in bed, Hannah's breathing was fast paced and she clung to the blankets in a desperate way a drowning person would have, slowly relaxing as time passed. The eyes and hair, like sapphires and fresh wheat, reminded her just of what she recalled of her mother's smiling face and motherly charm.

She looked around the bedroom, taking in the early sun from the open window. _The whole night I saw that child... _Hannah laid back, turning over in bed to return to sleep, hopeful to gain that odd, comforting false reality.

The trip was canceled by a sharp _knock, knock, knock _on the door. Before she could sit back up, a pretty woman with long brown hair with some held back and stern violet eyes. Hannah was immediately reminded of Rod and decided to call her Pole, because she also stood straight like a pole or rod? She stepped in, hands clasped in front of her dress which was a more feminine version of Rod's Jack clothing, when she spoke, it was the same as her eyes, stern.

"I am Sophia, und I am to assist you vith bazing und dressing."

Hannah's brows furrowed at this, getting out of bed and coming over to the woman, appearing in about her early thirties to late twenties. Pole kept her back straight and looked Hannah in the eyes, hardly blinking.

"Um..." _How the hell do I talk to someone so cold looking?_ She thought then just decided to act as if talking to another woman in the village or, better yet, her brother or Ivan. "What's this about washing and bathing?"

"Roderich, mien younger brozer, sent me at ze King's request vhen he saw you had not vashed or been given new clozes."

It was then Hannah realized, listening to Pole speak, that it was useless in this city to tell people you didn't want or need something or help when they set their minds to it. No compromise existed here. The proof was in Feliks, Ivan and, regardless of his obvious contempt towards her, Rod. She also quickly realized Pole had more to tell her, and it was news that Hannah was happy to hear.

Pole's look was cross, knowing Hannah had not been listening the first time she had spoken, obviously not one for liking to repeat themselves. "Your zings from ze inn have also been sent for, seeing its been determined until Mr. Joseph is vell, you shall remain here."

All Hannah could do was sit heavily back down on the bed, shocked and insanely ecstatic at this news. Shocked to hear she and her family would remain in the castle, but happy her most prized possessions roughy from home would not be overlooked. It seemed Ivan truly did care about his people's well being, to Hannah's delight.

Pole, while Hannah took in all this, went around the room, taking her dress and folding it, putting the socks with them, and placing them at the foot of the bed, and leaving the boot and where they were at their place by the bed. She shooed Hannah from the bed into the nearby vanity seat to fix the bed, freezing when she saw the familiar club pin still laying in the bed. She picked it up, eyes slightly wider, and turned to the dazed ash blonde, holding up the pin.

"Who gave zis to you?" She demanded of the village girl.

She looked up at the woman and confusion crossed her face, standing and moving to take it from the other's hands. It was willingly given, but the demanded question was made again, and Hannah obliged an answer.

"Ivan gave it to me, as a sign of friendship."

Pole's face drained of slight color, asking a new question, "How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, why?"

Pole turned away, clearly refusing to answer much to Hannah's chagrin, finishing up the bed and fluffing the pillows back into their cloud forms. She then took hold of Hannah's wrist, pulling her from the room, closing the door with a soft thud and pulling her across the hall into a bathroom.

While Pole set to work fixing up the bathtub, Hannah was ordered to strip down who did so with a lot of grumbling about indecency. The Jack's sister snorted as she worked, mumbling to herself about how Hannah knew nothing of indecency when she so freely flashed her ankles. The two relatively ignored each other after that, and Hannah took in the bathroom, holding the pin close to her chest in comfort.

It, like almost every other room in the grand place, was ace of the finest, and Hannah once again felt small inside it although it was a relatively small bathroom, she guessed, from how the other woman complained about lack of space. The floor was of marble, shiny from rare, if any, use, with a rug in the shape of a sunflower taking up much of the floor. The walls were hung with paintings of landscapes, hiding much of the vivid wallpaper that, when she stepped closer to look, was a shade she never expected in this castle. It was a royal blue, the color of the Spade Kingdom. A color the previous king despised, from what she had heard, with all his being, the reason why was never told, but was rumored he had been promised to marry the princess of that kingdom years ago, who had rejected him- cruelly. After that, every connection had been cut from the kingdom save important celebrations such as the prince's coming-of-age ceremony and coronation.

She shivered at the thought of what the king would have done had he seen this wallpaper.

Hannah stepped away from the wall, acting as if she had never seen the wall behind the paintings, instead turning her attention to Pole, asking if she was almost done, noticing she was shivering from the frigid air around her. The woman turned to her after dipping a finger into the water from which steam rose and pulling it back quickly.

"Yes, it's ready." She motioned to the water and Hannah cautiously stepped up, carefully stepping into the water that made her wince, and this time there were no soothing smells to hurry along her transition into the feverish water.

Settling down into it, she turned in the water to face Pole, being slow so as not to spills the water over, and asked, "Um, where are the things I need to wash myself?"

"They are hygiene items, Miss McCullough," replied Pole tersely, moving to the nearby cabinets where she withdrew multiple bottles of colored liquids. "Allow me to help."

"No!" At the woman's startled look from the sudden high outburst, Hannah's face flushed and she said, more calmly. "No, thank you. I can clean myself just fine." Her mind searched for the same words Ivan had used just yesterday on Rod, so seemingly insignificant. What where they...? Oh, yes. "P- Sophia, you may go."

The woman began to protest, then thought better of it and set the items down beside the tub, walking to the door. She turned to Hannah as the young woman leaned over the edge, reaching for the bottle with a long scrawl of the word _shampoo_ on it. Hannah looked up, hazel connecting with dark violet once again, and Pole said, voice not as tense as before, more understanding if possible.

"I shall be in ze hall, call vhen you are done so I may bring ze clozes."

The other nodded, swallowing. "Alright."

Sophia then left, heading directly for the other end of the castle, noting it would be some time before the pauper figured out how to properly use each of the things meant to cleans her body. A quick word was needed with her brother and then, possibly, with Ivan about what he had just done.

~CLUBS~

Sophia never got a chance to speak with either man, having been sidetracked when the things belonging to the farming family came in and she had to direct everything to its rightful room, and due to Hannah quickly figuring out how to use the bathing substances she had. Sophia had to then run to retrieve the gown she was to wear.

When she returned to Hannah's bedchamber, the younger woman was already at work with a hairbrush at her hair, brushing the tangles from it so the locks could dry straighter. The elder set the dress on the bed and moved to overlook as the hair was cleaned of all tangles within. She observed the younger's look was more forlorn than peaceful, and she questioned as to why, though the question wasn't in need of being voiced.

"When I was a little girl, everyone in my village said I looked like a child version of my Mother, and my Daddy would too, saying I'm going to be just like her one day. My Mother also said that, before she died." Hannah informed tonelessly. "At first, I still didn't understand why my Mother had died and no one told me I looked like her anymore, but eventually I did and became very bitter about looking like her, because I knew everyone loved her. After a year, my bitterness left and I decided to use my alike looks to simply make everyone happy. It's worked, but now I'm wondering if I really look like her."

Sophia dared step out of her role and asked, "Vhy do you vonder if you look like her?"

"There was a boy in my dream last night," Hannah explained, "he sounded about four or five, and had my Mother's hair and eyes exactly, he said my name. For some reason, I think it was a memory." She set the brush down, turning her body to face the other woman directly. "I don't think she was my actual Mother, the little boy looked too much like her and I barely look like my Daddy, let alone what I can remember of my Mother."

"You think you are not really their daughter." That was all the woman could think.

"Yes."

"Actually, your wrong, baby girl."

Both women looked to the door to find it open and Andrew standing there. He looked sad, yet at the same time happy. He came in, nodding to Sophia in recognition. She nodded back with a slight glare, muttering, "Indecent." He simply waved her off with a remark about being Hannah's father, ordering her to leave. After a moments hesitation, she did, closing the door behind her.

He walked right up to Hannah who held the towel around her frame tighter. He placed a hand on top of her head, and knelt to be eye level with her, face drawn. He kissed her forehead and stepped back.

"Hannah, baby girl, you're not my daughter." Hannah didn't react to this, having quickly come to this conclusion. "But you are your mother's." Her look turned confused, and Andrew smiled sadly. "Let me explain, baby girl. Your mother was a princess... She married the man who was the king of the Spade Kingdom, now his son Alfred, he was once a knight fallen in love with your mother. One day, however, your mother found out he no longer loved her, and was cheating on her, as payback she also cheated on him with another man, and accidentally became pregnant, that was you.

"Your mother couldn't hate you, however, and made everything line up for when you were born, so it would appear the king was gifted a daughter after a son, though you looked nothing like the knight. Alfred adored you as any older brother would, and he was three when you were born, and your mother fled the Kingdom when you were two and he four. The reason she fled is because the king figured everything out, and he would not only have her killed, but you as well and she couldn't have that. I was a faithful servant of your mother, my wife had died when Joseph was born, so I willingly brought my children along to act as a family with her in the outskirts of the Club Kingdom, far away from the Spade Kingdom and the angered king's reach."

"So Lukey and Britt aren't my real brother and sister, just as I thought?" She questioned, and he laughed, it sounding rueful to her ears.

"Yes, and we were cruel to you on one thing- Joseph is four years older than you, not two. We lied about this because you needed someone to relate to as you grew up, someone to lean on, and Brittany was already six-years-old." Andrew informed her, looking down at the floor. "Your last name isn't McCullough, it's Jones, and Joseph and Brittany's last name is really McCullough, not Paladino."

"So," Hannah looked away from the man she had called her father, "my whole life has been a lie, even my own name?"

"Yes. Everything." Andrew nodded, a pain ripping at his chest.

"Did you even love my Mother?"

He laughed, one that was more than broken. "Yes, absolutely yes. Though I think she never returned the feelings, her sights were always set on keeping as much attention from you and her as possible." He sighed. "I understand if you hate me."

Hannah looked to her lap then, unsure of how to respond anymore. She had no one to talk to now, and it would be useless to yell at him, get angry she had been lied to about who she really was since birth. All that would do is attract attention the ash blonde didn't want, attention she never wanted and never will want.

"I... I don't hate you, Daddy." She looked up at her father figure, smiling though it wasn't fully there. "I'm okay with it, you did what you thought was right. I understand."

Andrew tried not to stare, but he did. Had he ally ended up raising a girl who just accepted things as they were? Did he really raise a child of royalty as just the opposite despite everything he tried while living on the outskirts of a freezing country? It was a fate worse than death in his eyes, doing the one thing her mother had never wanted to happen. But the look in Hannah's eyes was so calm, so mature he had no choice but to accept that she had accepted the fact she had been lied to about who she was her entire life. It was truly heartbreaking.

Suddenly, before either could do anything, Hannah pushed back from the vanity she sat at, walking over to the bed and picking up the dress she'd been given to wear. It was a light blue color, almost the shade of the sky on a fresh spring day with no cloud in sight, and she guessed if worn would fall the length of her small body to the floor, the sleeves trailing down to her forearms in a tight grip. While one hand tightly grasped at her towel, she turned away from Andrew to pull the dress over her head, and within seconds she heard the door open and close with fading footsteps before she had even raised an arm above her waist.

Face falling to a frown, she let the towel drop and pulled the dress over her head, letting the gauzy feel enrapture her within its hold. Looking at it in finer detail after placing it on her body, she saw the torso was a hard silk material, just like taffeta. The sleeves however were plain silk, clinging to her body as a second skin, trapping in her body heat and quickly warming her chilled skin. The skirt, flaring out after her hips in. Lazy fashion, was also the same plain silk with several layers of shorter chemise underneath for insulation. The top dipped low, not low enough to tease cleavage to Hannah's pleasure. The cloth shimmered momentarily to a lighter shade of emerald each time it shifted, a feat of which Hannah did a double take to make sure it was normal and not her eyes playing tricks, the light blue silk interwoven with pale emerald in true shot silk style.

Hannah found, as she turned left and right to check the dress really did shift colors, that gossamer black stockings had been layer out just underneath the dress, and so pulled them on before stepping into her boots. An immediate sense of feeling wrong inside the clothing washed over her, but she pushed it aside on the premise she was once a princess. Still the young woman felt wrong in them, a feeling she ignored as best as possible. Hannah picked the pin from where she left it on the vanity, pinning it the the ribbon tied around her hips on the side, just in eye shot.

A knock then opening of the door had Hannah turning to see who had come this time. She opened her mouth to tell them to leave because she wasn't ready, expecting Rod or Sophia, and froze when she saw it was, of all people to come here, Ivan.

The man appeared flushed, almost out of sorts. Before she could do anything, Ivan had crossed the room, taking both of her hands in his- tightly. She winced at the grip and it slackened. His violet eyes held an emotion akin to shock and Hannah wondered why.

"Sophia..." He trailed, not finishing the half thought.

"What about Sophia?" She prompted softly in confusion, unsure of what was going on. Why had he come to her? What had Sophia done?

"That dress..." He took a breath, starting again. "That dress was not her's to give, it belongs to the current King of Spade's mother, one she left behind when she left." Hannah's heart beat faster than before, taking in what he'd said fully. This was her mother's dress. Of course, he didn't know that.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, eyes looking down. She couldn't let him know that. "I'll change right away." She began to pull away when Ivan's grip strengthened. She lifted her hazel gaze which rested on green now. "Wha'?"

"Don't." He ordered in a mumble, returning the confused look with a sure one. "Now that I've seen you in it... You deserve to wear it." A small blush filled his pale cheeks, as well as Hannah's. "Please, keep the dress."

Another mistake going to cost dearly.

"Yes." Promised she to him. "I will, and will wear it with pride."

He smiled, it very minuscule, and she returned it, again unaware of another mistake.

A gift of meaning between two people engaged was anther step closer toward marriage.

~CLUBS~

After this, Hannah tried her best to see Andrew, truly not upset with what had happened, but he father figure had disappeared, so she was left only able to speak with Joseph and Ivan. Both were amiable, in fact Joseph was more than willing to tell everything he remembered about the previous Queen of Spades, happy to see the girl interested in how her life would have been had she been raised a princess life. Ivan and her conversed as they had since meeting, about anything and everything, and kept no secrets from each other save the one Hannah had just gained, not sure of the man's feelings toward the kingdom she was born into.

Hannah couldn't figure out a way to bring up the topic without giving anything away, and as her brother figure got better and the month dwindled, she forgot about it altogether save the third Sunday of the month, a week before Hannah and her family would leave, whether Joseph was fully recovered or to. Upon that third Sunday, Alfred, king of the Spade Kingdom, arrived early for Ivan's coronation set for a week and half from that day.

The girl was running down a hall, frantically searching for a place to hide in a game of hide-and-seek she and several maids, as well as her new friend Elizabeta Héderváry who she found did not pine after Ivan but Rod, were playing and Elizabeta was it. Hannah was dressed in another gown her mother had apparently left, one meant more for comfort than look with its course cotton and loose waist in royal blue, wearing also her black flats she wore in her village. After a sharp turn, she raced down the stairs with a hand alighted on the banister, planning to head to the nearby hall cupboard, but barely had time to look up from her feet after stepping off the last step before she flew into an oddly placed soft piece of blue furniture. She slammed into the ground atop this piece of furniture and it gave a groan as people about flew into a flurry of frantic worry over their king being injured.

Wait. King? Blue?

Her body went stiffly cold before jumping back, apologies tumbling from her lips even before the words registered in her mind, ducking her face away. A laugh cut the clucking of the men and women off, including Hannah herself. She dared look up from the floor to meet eyes that ripped a gasp from her throat before she knew she had made a sound. A sapphire pair like the sky above, hair like freshly reaped wheat.

"Hey, calm down!" Alfred laughed. "I'm harmless!"

Hannah pushed away from the man as he held out a hand to her, voice lost and eyes wide. Stumbling to her feet, she stepped back up the steps, edge of her gown held clenched in one hand should she have need to flee.

The blonde man frowned at this, blue eyes clouding in befuddlement. He moved to step forward, hand dropping to his side, opening his mouth to speak, cut off by a voice before a sound could escape.

"Hannah! I found you!"

_Hannah?_ The name rung in Alfred's ears, achingly familiar as a woman with long, light brunette hair rushed down the stairs. The woman stopped short, taking in the scene she had come up to and her large smile faded to a small, fictitious one. The older woman took door of the younger's hand and led her back up the stairs. Alfred barely had time to realize the younger was dressed in the color of his kingdom.

"Hannah, come with me."

_Hannah, Hannah, Hannah..._ The name echoed in Alfred's ears and large hazel eyes belonging to a newborn baby flashed through his mind as the young woman called by that name was led away. She looked back over her shoulder, dark blonde hair obscuring her face slightly, and he immediately recognized her for what she was- his lost sister.

~CLUBS~

Hannah refused to leave her and Joseph's rooms after that, denying Ivan her presence even at breakfast time, too haunted by that encounter and the possibility of more. If there were more, she feared, he would find out she was his sister and take her back to the Spade Kingdom or have her killed on the spot. It took only two days of her sudden odd behavior to have Ivan demanding from Rod and Sophia to know the problem after she had been absent from him. When they could not tell him, due to her locking them away, he went directly to the source.

The tall, truly intimidating man stalked down the hallway his friend had confined herself to, footsteps unheard in the silent hall padded with carpet. He barged right through her door with no knock or warning, and found the bedchamber empty, hardly touched. Without second thought after finding this, he moved for the adjacent door to Joseph's room, stopping short at soft voices.

"Lukey, I can't anymore!" A soft voice cried to another. "I've lied to Ivan and now I'm avoiding everyone!"

"Why not tell him then? Why not find Alfred and tell him, as well, like I've said from the start?" Joseph asked in honesty. "It work out for the better."

"No, no it wouldn't. Alfred's father possibly made him hate me and Mother, he'd never accept me!" Hannah's voice rose in her vehement denial. "Ivan hates everyone from Spade probably because Mother denied his father."

"And probably not," Joseph replied harshly. "Me and my father have lied to you your entire life, it time out mistakes were corrected, and it's not us to make them."

"How can I?" She wailed, making something in Ivan's chest contract painfully. "How can I when my own blood brother and best friend might hate me!?"

It was then the door opened. Ivan did noted rasp the entirety of everything uttered between the two, but he understood Hannah was scared. Scared of him and he did not enjoy that thought.

When he opened the door and stepped through, he found a crying Hannah, hands hiding her face, as Joseph sat over the edge of the bed, leg in a cast, hugging her close. His presence was noticed, which was almost immediately, by both and Joseph smiled slightly while fear was evident in Hannah eyes, face tear stained. No hesitation existed as Ivan made his way to the two, kneeling at the crying woman's feet. He reached up, taking a hand in one of his lightly while another moved higher up to grasp her cheek tenderly, smiling up at her as she involuntarily leaned her face into the palm of his hand.

"Hannah, sunflower," the endearment wasn't lost on any of the three and Ivan could care less, "I don't care who or what you are." Ivan confessed, earning a sob that sounded vaguely like 'really' and he nodded. "Yes, really."

Joseph grinned, adding on, destroying the moment, "This conversation is better served out of the ears of a bored man who gossips worse than maids."

A glare was shot his way by Hannah, though it was halfhearted, and he laughed ass Ivan did. Ivan pulled Hannah to her feet, walking her back into her room, another catcall following them from Joseph which left a scarlet blush on both, "Don't try anything in there!"

The door was closed tightly closed behind them and the two sat down on Hannah's bed and before the other could ask, she explained everything from as dad as she understood. What had happened for end to end up where she was, why she was so scared and why she avoided him for two days. Everything.

Silence settled around them, neither saying a word as things were processed, and just as the more weakhearted of the two was about to cry again, the stronger pulled her into a hug, one that could be called close to bone crushing. In his hold, all she could do was hug back and hold onto him just as tightly, wishing to never move away. Neither wanted to move away from the other.

Hannah could think of only one thing left to say as she dug her face into the crook of his neck, and it took everything in her to not keep it bottled up from someone she had known less then a month but felt had known her whole life.

"Knowing all this... It makes me feel isolated."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

* * *

How long the two stayed as they were, wrapped in the others arms as comfort to each other, neither was sure when they pulled away. They could only guess it was a long time for they only pulled away when there was a trio of knocks to the door and Sophia's voice came through the door.

"Miss, it is time for lunch vith ze King."

The shared looks. Without a word, Ivan out a finger to his lips and both waited until there was a loud sigh followed by the sound of departing footsteps, a muttering of 'he vill not be happy' floating through.

"I am perfectly happy, and I should not be addressed as king yet," Ivan grumbled, standing from the bed. He turned and held a hand to Hannah who took it, letting him pull her from the bed. He brushed the jacket of his clothing off, and it was then he noticed something odd, a blush and peculiar look on his face. "Are you still in your nightgown?"

Hazel eyes widening, she turned around quickly with an exclamation of some sort. A blush rose up her face, spreading to the tips of her ears, Hannah had never felt more embarrassed. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry you have to see me like this! If you just step outside for a moment I can cha-"

Her voice cut off as a large, smooth hand took ahold of her chin in a feather light fashion, slowly turning her to face Ivan. A blush was present on both countenances and Hannah used an arm to cover her chest which showed through the thin matter. He kept his eyes firmly on her face, speaking slowly.

"It is... fine." He assured, but was that doubt hinted in his tone, or maybe disappointment? "We are... friends, yes? So it is fine."

"But because we're friends its wrong," Hannah replied seriously, forcing herself not to look away from him. "Friends don't see each other dressed in flimsy clothes."

"Then..." The man fell quiet, searching for words Hannah was, admittedly, eager to hear from how he seemed to take everything so slowly. "Then I will step outside so you may change." And Ivan turned and quickly exited the room, leaving Hannah standing there, somehow _knowing_ he had planned to say something else.

"I'll be out shortly." She called after just as the door closed. Hannah put the dress she'd worn when they first met back on, it washed and sent back to her room, and she slipped on her black flats, enjoying them more than her boots.

Opening the door to the outside world after two isolated days, she saw only Ivan leaning against the wall across from her door, waiting for her. He looked up and the two shared a smile. He pushed off the wall, holding the crook of his arm to her and she willingly placed her hand in the crook, stepping close to him as they headed down the hall.

As they walked, Hannah watched Ivan's face for emotion, finding only a serene smile and eyes as he walked forward with a high held head, shoulders relaxed. His posture was relaxing to herself, leading her to lean closer to him, humming a soft tune as they moved. For a split second, the man beside her tensed before falling back into the tranquil manner he had exerted from the start of their endeavor to wherever they pleased in the castle.

The steps they made fell louder after they stepped from the carpet laid down on the second floor to the stairs, echoing softly. Neither spoke, enjoying their company, heading toward the gardens of the grand place. Opening the door, Ivan held it for Hannah to let her through. She blushed, looking up at him shyly through her lashes and he returned it with a smooth smirk, motioning out the door.

"Princesses first."

She slightly hit his arm but walked out the door, stopping upon viewing the gardens. It was filled with sunflowers, nothing but them, and Hannah's eyes caught a sheen to her eyes as she gazed on them. A presence came up behind her, large warm hands placing themselves upon her shoulders, and warm breath ran along her ear as calming voice spoke to her.

"Do you like it, sunflower?" Ivan asked. "They all have been here for many years, since the first queen was married into the Club Kingdom." Hannah breathed in the fresh air around her, heavy with the scent of sunflower, not usually smelt due to its light scent.

"It's... Beautiful. Really." Was all she could think to say, walking to the nearest flower and looking at it in a loving manner. "They were my favorites with dandelions growing up, even though I only saw them once on a passing caravan to the queen's funeral. They still are. They're bright like the sun and get so very tall as sunflowers get older and, when in groups, can cover an entire field." Her voice was soft when speaking, rubbing a petal affectionately. "Sunflowers even outshine dandelions and their promised wishes that I adore."

"Really now?" Ivan asked in pleasant surprise. "I never knew you liked either of them. I've always loved sunflowers myself because of the freezing whether during the winter and the magic cast here to keep them alive in this frozen wasteland."

Hannah turned to stare at him. "'Frozen wasteland'?" She echoed, disbelief evident in her voice. "I don't think that's right."

Ivan stared back in just as must disbelief, thinking he heard wrong. "Excuse me?" He stepped an inch closer. "This place _is_ a frozen wasteland during the winter."

"To me, it isn't." She replied, smiling brightly. "I've never seen snow, it hasn't snowed where I grew up since before I was born. I've always thought snow as a gift sent for us, to start anew at the end of winter." After this, she returned to the large, bright flowers. "Though, it's nice to think they survive through the snowfall received here in the capital. I've heard it's bad."

Ivan walked to her, kneeling beside her frame where she sat before young, just blossoming sunflower, clearing away weeding around it. He watched her for several moments before brushing away her hands, taking over the weeding. Hannah sat back on her hunches, confused momentarily until she saw how more delicately he dealt with the grass and small weeds. Just as a person who handled a baby.

"You're very gentle with them," she commented and he hummed softly. "I've never been able to be like that."

"You must care," he informed in a voice of wisdom, "to react as a loving parent."

Only one word came to mind, "Oh."

A deep chuckle came from the man hunched over his small flower. He sat back as she did and, without second thought, ran his dirt covered hands over his pristine, emerald and spring grass green coat, shocking his companion. Looking over at her, she flushed at the gaze he gave, one of... of... Her thoughts fell down the drain when he leaned close. Close enough to kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand reaching up, and a flush rose up her cheeks, mind jumping to conclusions.

To have the conclusions crash to the ground when his fingers hardly grazed her cheek, removing a stray strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. His chuckle at her face when it colored a deep blush made butterflies run amuck in her stomach, leaving her light headed.

"You had stray hair."

"Uh... Um... Yes, of course!" She smiled a nervous look, turning her face from his. "Thank you for catching that!"

"Sunflower, you are funny." If he could haven seen her face then, he would of either, much to her sudden hope, have kissed him or, to her dismay, laughed, the expression was so undecided between to be cross or embarrassed. "It is something I l-" He stopped speaking, as if realizing he was about to say something out of turn that he shouldn't say.

Hannah turned back at this, head to the side as her cross/embarrassed expression faded into a inquisitive look, eyes glittering in a nosy light. Purple eyes had turned to the sky, but dared to flicker to briefly meet questioning hazel, and that sparked something in him.

Without word, Ivan leaned forward, hand coming up to cup a soft, rounded cheek in his hand, causing the woman before him to lean into the warm palm, eyes fluttering shut briefly before locking with violet in a deep forest green. Her breathing seemed to catch, as did the man's, when both moved closer, eyes fluttering closed, breath mingling. Their lips had hardly touched before both sprung away at the sound of the door to the garden opening, faces turning a bright scarlet obviously saying they had been up to something.

From the door stepped Sophia who's entire body radiated worry, speaking in a borderline frantic voice, "Your High-" Her voice cut off when she saw both, almost four feet away from the other, relief washing over her face as she practically ran up to the two. "Your Highness, I have been looking for you everyvhere! King Alfred vants to see you, Your Highness!"

A momentary sour expression overcame his face, asking crossly, "Can he not wait?"

She wrung her hands, looking between both Hannah and Ivan, sighing in frustration, "Nien. He vants to talk about a girl he saw ze ozer day in blue here." Both Sophia and Hannah sharing looks, knowing what she meant, and Ivan did too.

"Very well," a frustrated sound came from Ivan's throat, hand running through his hair. Rolling his shoulders back slightly, he turned to face Hannah, putting on a sweet smile before following Sophia, calling after her, "You should come listen, Hannah."

She didn't need such a suggestion twice, chasing after them, feet tapping against the floor in silence. Quickly catching up, she took step with Ivan and kept sync with him as they headed in the direction of his study, a room she had become familiar with over the past month, siting in there and talking with him when he wasn't needed elsewhere in the castle.

Coming to the door, they heard the shuffling of feet and Hannah instinctively backed up when Sophia reached to open the door and let Ivan into the room. Sophia closed the door and gave a look to Hannah, asking 'what have you done?' before walking away, in no position to question the young woman when Ivan held her in such high respect.

After the elder woman had left, Hannah pressed her ear to the door, trying to here as best she could inside the room, worry pumping through her veins like adrenaline.

~CLUBS~

Within, Ivan walked to his desk in a calm manner as Alfred took a seat in a vacant chair, Ivan noting how both him and Hannah crossed their ankles when they sat and chose the seat nearest the door, as if to flee if needed. He sat down, interlacing his fingers as his elbows rested on the desk top, all business... Unless Hannah walked through the door.

He had recently realized something about himself and her in the two days she refused to leave her rooms. Such as his unrelenting need to have her with him and talk to her, how her mere presence relaxed his stiff muscles with her loud, bright nature so easily subdued when he appeared. Yes, he had seen her when herself, when she was talking with Joseph one afternoon and had come to find her himself. It was something he craved. Her scent, very, very weak like the sunflower he had nicknamed her after, but very addictive like a forbidden fruit, intoxicated him to where he moved closer when he could without alerting her to something being off with himself. Her movements, sometimes very predictable and others times impossible to calculate, acted as water, especially when she simply walked right in front of him, hips unconsciously swishing back and forth like a prowling cat he had seen her yawn after so many times at breakfast, dragging him along like a entranced pet. The smiles Hannah gave lit up a room more than the sun or any candle could, seeming to melt what ice surround his heart, something that shocked many of the people in the castle when he began to smile in a polite manner as he passed servants in the hallways, not giving a sneer like he had before she showed herself to him. The open nature had been shown, a nature that was more fragile than a flower's petals with just as much gentleness he knew could be quickly replaced by strength and cruel words for protection if thought of being threatened, Ivan cherished more than any amount of gold in all the four kingdoms.

Yes, Ivan had realized something very important about himself and her in the past two days. For one, he can't live without the young woman's presence, for another... Ivan's come to realize he, more than anything possible, has fallen in love with her. And he doesn't care one bit despite his father's cruel words towards the Spade's royal line and harsh enforcements to despise the children he shared similar age with. The man never knew she was a princess, and possibly still is if what Alfred is going to talk about involves her being his sister and still caring for her. He always thought her a simple farm girl he wouldn't mind being friends with, even now he had trouble seeing her as anything but. Truth was truth however, and Ivan faced it head on, going to lengths to even share a kind- and slightly forced- smile with the Spade King of four, going on five, years.

"First off, you may call me Ivan." Ivan pleasantly started, throwing off the king. "Second, you wished to see me, eh?"

Alfred straightened his jacket, sitting up taller. "Yes... Ivan." He strained the name, not used to talking to other royals by their first name, always either their last name or title. "The other day, there was a girl, around her late teens or possible early twenties, dressed in the national blue of my kingdom. She went by the name of Hannah from what I had heard from the woman leading her away. Her hair is an ash blonde color and eyes hazel. I have reason to believe I've met her before."

Ivan relaxed and sat back. _He plans to go with the subtle approach, hm?_ Thought the beige-blonde. _Very well, it's better to be straightforward with him, then._

"Yes, there is a girl of that description here." Ivan replied, eyes flicking to the door that shook with hardly any movement. "Her name is Hannah, last name Jones." He saw a light of hope enter sapphire blues, and fought back the urge to crush it. "She is nineteen years of age, and comes from a farm on the outskirts of my kingdom, having lived their since she was two." Alfred obviously could hardly hide his excitement, practically jumping in his seat, lips sealed to keep from speaking. Right then, Ivan realized he would have to say something he wasn't sure Hannah wouldn't agree with to assure that Alfred would not take her back. "And I plan to marry her."

The king immediately lost his atmosphere of excitement, look becoming deadly and body going rigid. "What?"

The door behind them slammed open, making the two jump, Alfred whipping around to see who it was and was shocked to find Hannah standing there while Ivan was not. Hannah's face was colored red, whether in anger or embarrassment neither man was sure, but were told as she marched across the room, leaned over the desk, and slapped the future king across his cheek, leaving a bright red mark with a sharp stinging sensation.

Her eyes were colored chocolate in their anger and she struggled for correct words. "You ask my father before you claim my hand in marriage, do not assume he is fine with such things." Hannah turned and faced Alfred who looked at the woman as if he had seen a ghost.

"I thought you were dead... Father always said you and Mother were..." He whispered. "No way could I verify it as false."

"I understand," Hannah said briskly. "But next time, do not wait two days to find me, I was worried you hated me."

Then, back tense, she left the room hurriedly, leaving a brother sitting in shock and possible fiancé sitting their with a stung cheek.

~CLUB~

That evening, no matter how much Andrew or Joseph tried, Hannah wanted to return to their village, saying she did not want to be here when the snow began to fall. So, they packed their things into the family trunk they had and made sure all their belongings are once again on the donkey cart Hannah had also been adamant about using instead of the proffered carriage. Alfred, as well as Ivan, had no choice but to watch the family go, knowing the mind Hannah had could be changed when put to it just as Alfred's could not, or any other person's in the forsaken country.

As they set out, Hannah cuddled closer to Joseph to keep him warm in the dropping temperatures, pulling blankets around themselves as they exited the city gates and night began to fall upon them. It was colder at night so close to the capital than anywhere else when winter set in and Hannah, much to her chagrin, was slightly happy to be leaving when she held so little clothing for the winter when she had just talked about how she wanted to see the snowfall in Ivan's home.

But, that was the fate of a girl who didn't want anything to do with being a princess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

* * *

When they arrived home a week later, the family of three was greeted with a warm welcome from the other villagers and a home with a blazing fire curtsy of a neighbor who knew how the weather in Moscow could effect a person even after a week travel from it. Many were concerned with how Joseph was still off on his walking from the horse accident and he asked them to forget about it, that it couldn't of been helped. Men several years older than Hannah tried to flirt with her and she, much to everyone's surprise, coldly turned them down instead of a normal blush at complements and sweet 'no, thank you' or 'I'm not ready.' No amount of telling to not could be helped at this, and the village openly worried for the young woman who dug herself deep into her babysitting and cloth patching, many falling curious to where the colorful, lighthearted and gentle Hannah had gone.

"It happens every time a village woman goes to the capital," said the elder of the village to mothers who asked what had happened to the babysitter who made their children laugh so easily. "They find something they like and cannot have it so they become sour, or fall in love but the man does not want to marry a pauper which makes them feel externally ugly. Every time it happens."

Many of the mothers became sad at this and tried to rejuvenate the dreary girl into her old self, it worked only when she took care of children or patched clothing. Hannah would hum a lullaby to the children to put them to sleep or play funny little games like peekaboo to entertain them, and sing softly songs she knew by heart while stitching and patching worn clothing.

The days after that return day passed and slowly Hannah seemed to return to herself, yet also not for something in her was damaged obviously, and not even her father and brother figures could repair this broken stitch with all their best efforts. The fray was something they could not do, and only one other could and he was unable to.

Almost three weeks had passed before news reached the village that Crown Prince Ivan Braginsky was now King Ivan Braginsky, and looking for a wife and that everyone seen had been turned away. Hannah took this new in light, hardly reacting when Joseph, leg now fully healed with the most invisible of limps, ran into their home as she made dinner, tumbling out in a jumbled heap that Ivan was now looking for a queen.

"Good for His Highness," was she said the matter, not even bothering to look up from the pot of lamb stew she was making from their eldest lamb who had been getting on in years. "He needs a wife to rule with him and his sunflowers." No one noticed how her hand had tightened of the wooden spoon to where her knuckles turned whiter than snow.

The air outside the cozy homes had chilled considerably, just as Hannah had predicted for that winter, though snow still never fell, and many were happy to have her for she willingly helped repair old winter close with moth holes and tried her best to fix leather boots and woolen socks for the other villagers. It turned from a cold sinter into a normal winter for the modest people after this.

That is how we find Hannah sitting in the village head's cottage, watching a little girl and repairing a rambunctious boy's breeches in the early winter, reminiscing on her time in the King's home when a carriage was passing by, one everyone thought was another caravan passing into warmer lands for the winter, not expecting it to stop like so few did. From the back of the carriage came a footman who opened the door, letting out two men, one dressed in shape emerald and spring grass green with the buttons in the shape of a club, the other in royalty blue and turquoise with a silver pocket watch created to look like a spade.

Young kids playing in between the homes stopped, whispering amongst themselves at this odd sight. Never had they seen such people before, and never had they seen a man with eyes like the man in green! Purple, what an odd color to find! They whispered to themselves how Hannah looked much like the man in blue, but far more feminine and quiet, while he appeared loud and manly. Also, he had blue eyes like a steam and hair the color of wheat their fathers reaped from the fields in summertime.

The two walked in sync, and the blue man gave the children a big smile as he passed, stopping an kneeling before one who did not flee away from he men. He balanced on his heels, elbows resting on his knees as he leveled himself with a five-year-old girl. His look was honest and trustworthy, voice conveying his feelings fully as he talked with her.

"Little Miss, can you tell me where a young woman by the name of Hannah lives?"

Recognition sparked in the child's eyes and children peeked from the cottages they hid behind. When the girl opened her mouth to speak, the eldest of the bunch, looking to be eight or nine, stepped forward, arms crossed and his face a scowl.

"Watcha want wit the pauper princess?" He demanded coldly. "If i's to marry 'er she ain't int'rested. She like it 'lone."

The two men shared looks, the man in blue with an eyebrow rose. He turned to the boy, giving him a serious look as the little girl rushed to the other children who had come out to hear what was being said.

"We want to speak with the... Pauper princess," he told the boy. "She is my sister, and is friends with this man." He waved a hand to the standing man in green many of the children had already nicknamed Mr. Green or Mr. Club.

"You ain't no right t'a call 'er a pauper princess like us." Replied the boy. "'N she don' talk to no men but her brother 'n pa. She ain't related to some man in blue."

It was here the man was lost for words, standing and brushing off his pants in helplessness and the man called 'Mr. Club' smiled at the boy, frightening him with the dark aura around him. He did not kneel to speak to the child, instead demanding in a voice that sounded like a question.

"Where is Hannah, my little sunflower?"

The boy quivered in his boots before pointing down the street to a large cottage, stuttering as he spoke in fear. "Sh-she watchin' the Head's daughter n' fixin' 'is son's clothes."

"Thank you, young one." The man began to head to the cottage as 'Mr. Blue' patted the boy's shoulder in comfort, informing him before following after, "He's been like this since she left. Don't worry."

Falling back in step with the new king, Alfred cast Ivan a look of knowing. Ivan brushed it off as he headed towards the home, a feeling of anticipation gripping his chest more tightly than any cold wind ever could.

"She might not-" "No. Let me find out for myself."

They fell quiet, Alfred abiding by the other's wish. The house quickly came to them and Ivan knocked on the door, breathing in deeply to let out a slow breath. Alfred stood just behind him, slightly out of sight, and waited as he heard the sound of a voice sighing in annoyance, mutterings of soft curses as a child inside made noises.

When the door opened, neither were prepared to see Hannah dressed in a skirt of dark brown and creme poet's shirt with a pale brown vest and white apron, short hair held back from her face by an old strip of black cloth. In her arms, resting on her hip, was a toddler of three, small wooden horse held in her mouth and eyes big and hazel like Hannah's, hair a group black ringlets around her small baby face. Her look, one of pleasant hello, fell into a frown before the door shut, unable to fully close due to a boot in the door.

"Return to your kingdoms, leave me alone." Hannah called as she turned to try keeping the door close with her back.

"Not when my sister is living in shambles!" Alfred shouted. "Enough of this living as a pauper! You were born royalty!"

"And I shall die as one where I belong as one: here!" She argued loudly, gaining attention from many of the people.

Alfred growled in frustration, pushing against the door to open it as Ivan did. "This is not where a princess lives! A pauper lives here!"

"And I am a pauper princess, now leave!" She commanded, putting more effort into closing the door when both began to push against the flimsy wood. "Return to your castles, your lives and wives!"

Ivan froze at this, recalling the conversation he had first had with her and set a hand on Alfred's shoulder, pulling him back from the door to let it slam closed. Quick breathing could be heard from inside as Ivan hurried the conversation to Alfred quietly who took in the information.

"Hannah, neither of us have wives!" Ivan called in. "I refuse to marry any woman who tries to woo me...!"

"And I have not been in my castle long enough to find and marry a woman of my choosing...!"

"Because we were searching for you, sister/sunflower!"

Both hoped this would the desired effect as they then sat on the hard ground to wait. The entirety of the small village had heard what had gone on, and now also took up watch to see what would happen, two men from the village in particular eager to see what would be done. Minutes passed, many wanting to know what was to happen before the door finally opened, Hannah walking from the cottage. In her hands was a small, engraved box Alfred recognized as their mother's sewing box that had gone missing when she and Hannah did.

Alfred's face lit up and he walked after her, Ivan following on her other side.

"Hannah, are you going to come with us?" He walked with her as she turned to a cottage smaller than the rest and opened the door, entering and setting the box down on the table in the centre of the room. She moved to pull out a pot from cupboard and his big smile turned confused as she picked up carrots unwashed from the top of the cupboard mixed with other vegetables. "Huh?"

She dunked the carrots into a bowl of dirty water, washing off the grime on them before setting them in the table with pulling a knife from overheard, chopping them up. She barely looked at either confused man as she began to speak.

"If either of you wish to talk with e and try to take me from here, you stay for lunch and dinner." She informed them. "Daddy will be home for both meals and you can talk with him."

"Sunflower, w-" Ivan was cut off by the knife suddenly lodging itself in the wood and her turning to them.

"I am not a sunflower, I am a person, and you will call me Hannah. It's the name I was born with, correct, _Your Highness_?"

Ivan looked at the floor from where he stood and said no more, both shocked at this unexpected turn in the young woman he loved and angry with it. He conceded to what she proposed and sat down in the nearest chair, though Alfred was not as easily deterred from what he wanted.

"No, you are coming with us now. It too long of a trip to get back to simply stay for dinner." He moved to grab her upper arm but a hand took tight hold of his arm, stopping him. Looking back over his shoulder, he found it was Ivan keeping him from reaching his sister. "Let me go, Ivan. Now."

"No." Replied the other man stoically. "I am sure this village will attack us, kings or not, if we try to force her to leave without consent from her. The children looked ready to lie if we showed to be any harm to her. They treat everyone in the village as family, and she is no exception as much as we may wish it."

Alfred growled lowly before complying, sitting down heavily in a seat and crossing his arms. He continued to glare at the floor, pissed, as Ivan gave a gentle smile to his beloved, noting that on the tie of her apron the spade pin was clipped with pleasure.

"May I question what you are making?"

"Yes." She knelt to pull several leaves from the plants in pots underneath and chop them up, sliding them over next to the carrots. "I am making chicken dumplings. I killed the chicken just this morning so it's fresh if Al didn't to run off with it." Both men felt their stomachs roll at the thought of seeing her kill anything, the thought of blood not associated in such a way with Hannah. "The dumplings I made the other day and buried them in wrappings to keep them fresh, Lukey's out getting them now."

"Ahh, sounds delicious." Ivan nodded, lacing his fingers together.

Hannah said nothing about how big of a lie it was, in steadying focusing on her work. Joseph showed up several minutes later with a small basket and set it on the table before pulling rounded balls from the basket, unwrapping them, and dropping mashed, rounded rice into the pot over the constant fire that slowly brought the water to a boil. He also added each ingredient that Hannah finished with until Andrew brought a featherless, headless chicken into the cottage. He gave the two younger men a nod and kind smile.

"Daddy, just put it in the pot, I'll pull the skeleton out when it's ready," Hannah requested and he gave a pat to Hannah's head before doing as she wanted.

Andrew then took the only other free seat available once Joseph also took a seat. He held a pleasant expression, but somehow they knew it hid anger and protectiveness.

"So, you really love Hannah?" He deadpanned, smile more eerie than the one Ivan had given earlier.

"Yes. Da, I love her." Ivan nodded, trying not to shiver. The man may not have been her blood father, but he certainly scared the king half to death as what he imagined Hannah's real father would have done. "More than anything."

"Obviously, if you planned to leave your kingdom unattended for more than two weeks."

"It is not unattended," Ivan defended, "the Jack of Clubs, Roderiech, is taking care of any matters that appear."

Andrew laughed. "And that's why I can say you are perfect as a knight for my daughter, to come find her at any risk, even your knight taking over the kingdom." Ivan jerked at this, his fears only quenched when the man then added, "Of course, the man is too loyal to think of that." He then looked to Alfred, serious again. "And you, to leave your kingdom for almost a month, just for a coronation and on the hopes of finding someone lost to time. How irresponsible! What right do you have to still consider yourself her brother?"

Alfred returned the look. "When Hannah was first born, promised to do everything in my willpower to protect my sister, and even when I was continuously told she was found dead with our Mother, killed by a bear, I looked for her. Because I would know when my sister was dead or safe, and never once did I ever feel she was dead as years past. No, I felt the opposite, and I plan to keep her alive by taking her away from this hellhole known as a village."

"Then I hope you now the price of such a thing. Hannah deeply loves this 'hellhole' as you call it." Andrew spoke quietly, leaning back in his seat, relaxing. "Now, it was never really me you had to convince. I am fine with whatever my daughter chooses, as it my son. However, it is Hannah herself you must convince of being truthful, and I don't think me grazing the surface will make her rethink anything. She is as bad as any other in this country with her choices, something both she and you, Alfred, took from your mother."

The sound of a _pop_ drew them from the talking to look over at the pot to find Hannah hold a still intact skeleton of the dead chicken dropped in not minutes before. She wrinkled her nose at it and then walked around the table and to the door. For several minutes, a cat had been clawing and meowing at the door, much like a dog, and Hannah opened the door and their was a white cat with long dark brown fur around its neck and semicircles under its eyes. It began to jump up at Hannah and she laughed, telling that cat to get down, calling it Al.

The cat did as told but circled her ankles until she set the skeleton, still with bits and pieces of chicken stuck to it. Before she could place it on the floor, the cat snatched it from her hands and ran out the door. Hannah glared after it, calling 'you're welcome' and wiped her hands on her apron.

"That cat is so crazy, he needs a woman to keep him in check." She muttered and gave Andrew and Joseph who watched in amusement a smile.

Ivan stood, lacing his fingers behind his back. She was different here, but oddly enough it was a good different. Hannah didn't appear out of place in this place most would look down on as a home of filth and disease. And, frankly, she had looked sad and longing when she talked about her village, exactly where they were now. He didn't want her to be sad if she had to leave this place, and so he knew what he had to say.

"Hannah, sunflower..." She looked up from stirring the soup in the pot, pulling the wooden spoon from it and giving him her full attention with a soft hm of acknowledgement. "We will leave immediately, you may stay here and enjoy the life you want. Me and Alfred shall not bother you after today."

"What!?" Alfred sprung to his feet, knocking the chair back. "We never agreed to this! We came here to take her back, whether she agreed or not!"

Ivan turned to the enraged man. "You planned to take her back whether she wanted to go or not, I came to try and persuade her to come back. Two different things between forcing and asking of the impossible." He growled. "Isn't it obvious? She loves the life she has here. Who are we, men she hardly knows, to make her leave this life she loves? Nothing to her."

Alfred glared before taking a brief look at Hannah, seeing her aglow in the one room home, and it died. His tensed shoulders slumped forward. "Yes. Who are we to ask the impossible?"

Ivan laid a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "No one." He looked back at Hannah, sadness in his violet eyes but acceptance for something he can't change no matter how much he wished he could. "We should leave."

They turned to the door, both men bowing to the family before exiting the home and towards the carriage awaiting them. As they left, people peered out of their cottages to see what was happening, many with faces brightening when they found Hannah was not with them.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Alfred asked lowly, looking to each home they passed. "She would have come with us if you told her what Sophia told us about being engaged."

"I wouldn't do that to her," Ivan mumbled. "She would feel obligated to finish what we had accidentally started, and I would not have that. She should not have to feel chained to something she does not want."

Alfred sighed, looking at the sky. _Didn't you see how sad she was to see us leaving? _He wondered. _Didn't you see how she seemed to open her mouth as we turned to leave, as if to say 'stay'?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor the Carvderse idea. Hannah, Joseph and their father belong to me.**

* * *

After the two men left, Hannah sat the spoon on the table and collapsed in the sea Ivan had vacated, staring at the seat Alfred had sat in blankly, seeing yet blind. Andrew and Joseph watched her as she did this and then her father figure leaned across the table, taking a hand in his to give it a gentle squeeze. She looked up with teary hazel eyes and he gave her a small smile.

"Really, Hannah. Don't beat yourself up over this," He chuckled quietly, releasing her hand. "Go with them. We're fine here."

"Really, Daddy?" She sniffed, wiping away a stray tear she had.

"Yes. Now," he stood and pulled her from her seat, turning her toward the door and pushing her forward, "go after him and your brother."

She didn't need to be told twice.

~CLUBS~

Alfred climbed into the carriage first, taking a seat and setting his sights to the window on the opposite side of the village towards the fields that would remain empty until spring. Ivan began to climb in after him, but the sound of his name stopped him. Stopping and turning, he saw Hannah running down the street of the village towards them.

"IVAN, WAIT!"

Something in Ivan's heart seemed to explode and he did not just wait, he jumping from the carriage, taking after her. Alfred climbing hallways for the doorway and began to ask what the hell had happened, but cut off when he saw his sister, crying, almost throw herself and Ivan to the ground. Her arms wrapped around the tall man's neck, legs wrapping around his waist as she peppered his face with kisses.

"I'll go with you!" She cried between the pepper of kisses, digging her face in Ivan's neck. "I'll go!"

Ivan himself held her in close to crushing hug, laughing in delight at this news. He spun in a circle, unable to quiet himself or stop the large smile that stretched from ear to ear, to pleased. Alfred watched with wide eyes, falling to sit on the steps of the carriage before laughing, grin on his lips.

~CLUBS~

_A YEAR LATER_

After a year, in the winter of the next year, after days, weeks, and months of arguments, makeups, tomfoolery, getting to know one another, and an acceptance to marriage, Ivan and Hannah were married.

In the same place they first met, walking the streets and greeting the people of Clubs, Ivan stopped Hannah several months before they wed, saying he dropped something. When he stooped to pick what he had dropped, she found it was a small black box, one that made the girl tip her head to the side in confusion, oblivious to the customs of her country despite how hard she had studied every subject since accepting to be with him.

Ivan brushed off the small box and suddenly shifted to one knee. This single act had everyone around stopping to see what was going to happen as something in Hannah told her this was a _very_ important moment in her life. He gave her a smile as he opened the box, revealing a simple silver band in a cushion of sea green.

Women around gasped, pointing and whispering as Ivan spoke, voice humbled, eyes honest, "Hannah Taylor Jones, would you do the honor of making me the greatest living king and become my queen?"

She froze, breath catching and mind forgetting completely what she was supposed to say then everything sped up and she flung herself at his crouched form, falling to the street as she cried out, "YES!" With no prohibitions, she kissed the man fully on the lips, he returned with just as much fervor as she gave.

Pulling back as people continued to whisper and gossip, she giggled and smiled at him happily. "I thought you'd never ask, actually."

He chuckled, shooing her off him to stand and help her up with a proffered hand. He ducked and pecked her lips before replying. "Never underestimate me, sunflower. Not when it's you."

Hannah grinned, walking backwards towards the palace, look coy, hands behind her back. "Do you want to... perhaps... prove that?" She took off for the castle she had come to call home.

They may have been courting each other, but Ivan and Hannah had a never really played by the rules when the bedroom was involved. That's how Hannah ended up pregnant at their wedding.


End file.
